


We Are Written in the Stars

by zerodawn_vibes



Category: Karlie Kloss - Fandom, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, a healthy dose of fluff and angst, finding each other in different lives, kaylor - Freeform, these two are soulmates here i'll prove it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-22 13:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodawn_vibes/pseuds/zerodawn_vibes
Summary: Taylor was five when she first dreams of the mysterious girl with green eyes. As she grows older, and the images more vivid, Taylor is left to wonder what they really are. Dreams, or something more?The Kaylor reincarnation AU that no-one asked for.





	1. Your Eyes So Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically an excuse for me to write multiple Kaylor AUs and call it a story. Enjoy the result.

Taylor had spent most of her life wondering if it was real. Wondering if all the energy she had poured into researching, documenting, writing, was worth it.  
  
In hindsight, she never was one to believe in destiny, in “true love.” Yet to her, that feeling always felt like the most natural thing in the world, as familiar as breathing.  
  
She was five when she first saw her. It was her first trip to New York, and her mom had taken her to Central Park. The small girl was staring with wide-eyed wonder at the sheer amount of flowers that surrounded her. Small hands drifted over soft petals, marvelling at their feel and vibrant colours standing out against the cool earth.  
  
Her mom knelt next to her, pointing to each and telling her their Latin names, big things that Taylor’s mouth struggled to form. She preferred their more common names, pretty words that felt sweet as she parroted them back to her mom.  
  
But when she arrived at a certain plant, she halted, tilting her head. The plant in question was quite unassuming, more of a bush than anything, with small, delicate white flowers.  
  
But it was the leaves that caught Taylor’s eye. Something about that particular shade of green, the way the sunlight and shadows played on the leaves’ surface made Taylor stop.  
  
“That’s Pycnanthemum,” her mom had said, reading its sign. “Mountain mint.”  
  
“Mountain mint,” Taylor murmured. Slowly reaching up her hand, she delicately brushed the pale leaves, as if they might break upon touch.  
  
And as she did, a pair of piercing green eyes flashed in her head. A face with blonde hair, freckly cheeks, and eyes the same shimmery pale green as the leaves in her hand.  
It was foreign and familiar all at once. Taylor knew that in all her five years, she had never seen that girl. She couldn’t even tell how old she was.  
  
And yet, something about that image radiated peace, felt like home in a way her young mind couldn’t hope to articulate. Like moving a limb that had remained dormant your whole life, unable to be forgotten once discovered.  
  
The image seemed to last forever and an instant, vanishing before she could fully process it.  
  
Taylor stumbled back a few steps into her mom’s legs. Andrea looked down at her daughter, who was staring open-mouthed at the plant in front of her. She watched as Taylor stepped forward again, feeling the leaves eagerly and pouting in disappointment when whatever she was expecting didn’t happen.  
  
“Taylor?” she asked when her daughter started stroking the leaf more insistently with both hands. “If you’d like, we can go to the plant nursery after this and find one to take back home with us? You can plant it and watch it grow in our yard.”  
  
“It has to be mountain mint, Mom. Please?” Taylor begged, eyes wide.  
  
“Of course sweetie,” Andrea smiled, holding out her hand. “Come on. It’s getting late and we’d best head off now if you want to find that plant of yours.”  
  
Taylor took her mom’s hand, as Andrea gently led them out of the park. Taylor turned and stole one final glance at the green, as if the girl from her head might materialise if only she stared hard enough.  
  
“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered. “See you real soon.”  
  
The first dream came that night.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_She walked in a sea of gold, bathed in the light of the sun. Heads of wheat bobbed by her sides, her hands skimming lightly over the tops of the golden stalks as she drifted across the field. The sun was just beginning to meet the horizon, gilding the world in a soft warmth that bathed her face and lit her hair until it was the same colour as the field around her._  
  
_The days were getting shorter. The warm seasons were coming to an end, and with it her time on Earth with her mother and father. She smiled at the thought._  
  
_Demeter of course mourned the approaching absence of her daughter, wailing in sorrow at the thought of existing another six months with the knowledge that her only daughter, her precious child, was living with the ruler of the dead._  
  
_It seemed the Earth itself was also preparing for her departure. Leaves were browning, the grass losing its vibrancy with each passing day. Each year it happened; the life would slowly, but surely fade from the Earth as she left, as if it too was bereaving her loss._  
  
_And she could not wait to go._  
  
_She heard the whispers of course, felt the judgemental stares of the other gods that followed her as she walked the cramped halls of Mount Olympus._  
  
_“The daughter of Demeter,” they would gossip in barely-concealed tones, “the innocent maiden, stolen from her pure lands by the god of the Underworld.” Many pitied her, thinking her perpetual biannual movement to be a cruel curse, inflicted by the equally cruel monster that held her captive._  
  
_“If only they knew the truth,” she thought._  
  
_Their scrutiny was always what drove her down here, to the woods and fields of her mother’s creation and her care. Leaves crunching under her bare feet, she walked until she could no longer hear the hush of the wind in the long grasses, the sound muted as she entered the copse of trees at the end of the field._  
  
_The lands behind her were bountiful, a paradise radiating out from the foot of Mount Olympus, shaping a landscape teeming with life. She had reached the end of that paradise, the plenty of the fields behind her giving way to ancient shadowy trees and dark earth._  
  
_This here, right at the edge of her mother’s domain, was where she first entered the Underworld, where she first met the feared lord of the dead._  
  
_She was never taken, contrary to belief; she asked to go, practically begged to be given sanctuary. Far better to remain underground, away from the light, than from the lusting eyes of her father, of Zeus._  
  
_It was in the weeks after Demeter first introduced her to the god of thunder that Zeus grew increasingly lecherous when it came to his daughter. What once passed as fatherly touches began to linger, unyielding fingers drifting places that made her want to scrub her skin raw._  
  
_She of course had heard the stories. She knew what Zeus did when he desired something, he took and stole and ravaged once he set his sights on something. On someone._  
  
_And it terrified her. She felt what was coming, knew it was only a matter of time before Zeus’ violent lust finally found her. So she ran. Her feet took her to the very edge of her mother’s domain, not a single thought in her head except to flee, to escape, to run._  
  
_It was then that she blindly stumbled into the copse of trees where she now stood. It was there that in a great chariot pulled by two magnificent horses, the lord of the dead nearly ran her over._  
  
_Zeus would later begin the rumour that the evil god took her then and there, as she lay weak and defenceless on the ground. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. True, the close encounter knocked her to the ground, had winded her. But the hands that stilled the spooked horses above her, that cradled her face checking for any signs of injury were as gentle as a breeze._  
  
_For the first time, she found herself looking into the eyes of someone who listened, as though she was the single most important being in the cosmos. The lord of the dead heard her story, and upon its conclusion, wordlessly stood and helped her into the chariot, a simple “stay with me” on their lips._  
  
_She learned quickly that all the sardonic whispers of the god of the Underworld could not be further from the truth. Those rumours of his hideous face and corruption? They were all lies perpetuated by Zeus out of spite and ridicule. The true Hades, she found, was beautiful, existing only in the darkness below because of the bad hand they had been dealt. While Zeus was gifted all of Earth to rule, they were given the Underworld, and all its blood-soaked responsibilities._  
  
_It surprised her, how similar they were. She cultivated and nurtured life, yes, but the lord of the dead was nurturing in a different way, guiding lost souls and helping them find peace before they went to their final sleep or next life. Not cruel and bloodthirsty at all, but gentle and patient, listening to the story of each soul that entered the Underworld._  
  
_They were not as opposing as she was taught. Different as night and day, but still fulfilling the same role, orbiting around the same creation of life as the moon dances with the ocean._  
  
_Though she sought only a place of solace when she arrived, mutual curiosity ultimately bloomed into something more, something beautiful, and gentle, and as familiar as the ground beneath her feet. She found she was happy. She was away from her mother, her fields, everything she had ever known, but she was the happiest that she had ever been before._  
  
_It was not to last._  
  
_They spent a blissful year together until her mother found her, sending Hermes with a message raging that she return home. And she found for all of her initial longing, that she did not want to. Yes, she missed the richness of the earth, the brightness of her mother’s fields. But that was no longer her home._  
  
_The lord of the dead had woken that morning to an empty bed. Panicked and fleeing their palace, nothing could have prepared them for the feeling of frozen dread at the sight of Demeter’s daughter crumpled along the banks of the Styx, a half-eaten pomegranate clutched in her outstretched hand._  
  
_An inhuman cry found its way to Taylor’s ears as she was gathered up in warm safe arms. Soft utterances of “why” fell from trembling lips as her love comprehended what she had done._  
  
_To consume the food of the Underworld was an act of suicide in the eyes of the gods residing at Mount Olympus. To take a bite of the fruit that grew there was to remain trapped in the world below._  
  
_As much as her deed had bound them together, doing so had forever tied her to the Underworld, severing her right to call Olympus her home._  
  
_She had simply smiled. They lay together for hours, her love gently rocking her as she recovered from the sudden feeling of disconnection the fruit had elicited._  
  
_And together they wept for her loss, their future, and her new home beside the lord of the dead._  
  
_Her mother was furious. Devastated at her daughter’s choice of partner, she crossed the world above, killing crops, rendering the ground too salty to grow anything worth eating. Famine spread across her land, she had no choice but to return to the world of gods and splendour that was feeling less and less like home with each passing day._  
  
_Eventually a deal was struck. She would spend half the year on Earth and the rest of the year in the Underworld._  
  
_And the time was fast approaching when she could return at last. But that was not why she had made her way to this copse of trees today. No, she had a job to do here, something that she recently added to her routine of growth and bloom in her mother’s lands._  
  
_Entering the ring of trees, she revelled in the way the dark earth felt on her feet, approaching the centre of the clearing. There was a small divot in the middle of the ground there, only the size of her fist and barely noticeable in the rich dirt. It was before this small impression that she knelt, the fine white of her dress pooling around folded legs._  
  
_Gently, she ran her fingertips across the earth in front of her, gliding her hands into the ground. Where it looked as solid as a rock, she knew there to be a small deposit of rich soil. It was the most fertile she could find, carried it all the way from her mother’s fields to this place, the entrance to the Underworld._  
  
_Closing her eyes, she felt the energy gather in her fingers, building from within herself and the air around her. A sprout began to emerge from the ground, winding its way around her fingers and perching on her knuckles. Slowly removing her hands from the earth, she stared down with fondness at the little life curling itself around her arm._  
  
_Raising her arm, she gently stroked stem with her other hand, encouraging it to grow. That was the difference between her and her father, her love had insisted. Zeus consumed power, manipulated and pushed it to his own will. She merely redirected, using the energy around her to create not wreak havoc._  
  
_As the stem continued to wind upwards, she took a steadying breath, closing her eyes once again and redirecting the flow of energy to not only grow, but bloom. And as she opened her eyes, she saw before her a soft purple flower, petals edged with flecks of crimson and silver, a design she had only perfected in the past week._  
  
_Breathing a sigh of relief, she gently unwound the tangle from her arm and reshaped it to form a single stem. Finding the divot in the ground, she placed the flower upright in the fresh earth. And finally, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a tiny scrap of parchment, painstakingly tucking it into the folds of the petals. Placing a final kiss on the petals, she wordlessly rose and retreated back to the edge of the copse._  
  
_Bracing a hand on one of the ancient trees, she turned in time to see the small divot roar into a gaping hole in the ground, her flower swallowed up beneath the earth that poured into the opened depths. Within seconds, the hole had shrunk and filled, leaving no trace but the fresh earth that marked the centre of the clearing._  
  
_She smiled to herself before facing the lands she would be leaving behind in just a few short weeks._  
  
_“Only one more moon, my love.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
_Far beneath the ground, where the air was still and cool, a black-robed woman strode through the cavernous space she called home. A far cry from the stifling, compressed labyrinth that most assumed her domain to be, this was a vaulting cavern, the space illumined not by the sun, but by the veins of luminous rock that wove its way up its walls like veins._  
  
_The chamber was enormous, large enough to fit every castle on Earth, and more. At one end of the vast area, a palace seemingly carved out of the rock rose proudly, its spires neither opulent nor humble. The rest of the cavern was divided by the river Styx that ran its way in a ring around the outskirts of the structure, leaving a vast inner ring and a more widespread outer ring. Passageways ran out from the edges of the cavern, each leading to a separate antechamber, not as vast as the main, but just as beautiful._  
  
_The glow of the rock walls webbed up the sides of the central expanse, giving way to an enormous marble ceiling, enchanted to change hue with the turn of the sun. Daylight on the surface was indicated by a pale blue stone, woven through with streaks of white, the night sky reflected as a dark almost black rock, studded with thousands of diamonds and precious stones that formed a blanket of twinkling lights just as mesmerising as the stars so far above._  
  
_She had only enchanted that ceiling a few years ago. Where stalactites once hung down like fangs, the rock had been smoothed back to create the illusion of an endless sky; a present for her love once she shyly confessed her yearning for the open air above her. How long they spent, tangled up together, staring at that ceiling, her love softly weeping tears of gratitude and quietly describing the constellations of her home world, the same configuration of stars appearing in the rock far far above them with a simple wave of the other woman’s hand._  
  
_Yes, for all the horrid tales of Hades, the brutal, bloodthirsty lord of the dead, she was a woman. As tall and as proud as the tales told, but without any of the repulsive ugliness that those stories implied. This was a woman with hair and skin as golden as the sun, eyes as green as the grass so far out of reach._  
  
_Those tales were only spread by Zeus as a mockery and retaliation for the goddess who was shouldered with the responsibility of caring for the dead. The goddess who should have ended up as twisted and jaded as the souls she worked with, but who took pride in her job, who saw its importance and valued her ability to help others find peace._  
  
_The woman in question was busy making her way back from the outer ring of the cavern. As she crossed the river Styx, a splash of colour, too iridescent for her world, caught her eye. Turning to the large plinth that rose from the middle of the river, her serene face broke out into a grin as bright as the glow of the surrounding rocks._  
  
_There on the low platform, the entrance point to the Underworld, stood a proud, purple flower, its colour a vibrant buzz against the muted, cool hues of the cavern._  
  
_One of Persephone’s gifts._  
  
_Rushing up the stone steps, she fell to her knees, taking the flower it into her hands and marvelling at its softness and life. It was beautiful. Each of Persephone’s gifts were, but this one held a sparkle, a gild she had not seen before that caused her smile to widen even more. It would seem her love had been practicing._  
  
_But she knew it wouldn’t last for long. Nothing from the world above did. But it could be preserved._  
  
_Drinking in one last sight of the rich colours, she closed her eyes and slowly slid her hands up the stem of the flower. As she did, a vein of gold crept up the surface of the plant, soon encasing the entire thing in a solid layer. The details remained intact, each curve and rise of the precious treasure kept fresh within the gold._  
  
_It was only when she opened her eyes that she noticed the tiny square of parchment wedged between two of the inner petals. Carefully prying it free, she eagerly unfolded it, heart racing. Messages were rare between the two women while they were apart._  
  
_Smoothing out the parchment, her eyes scanned the looping handwriting._  
  
“I miss you more than words can say, my love. I am counting the days.”  
  
_Shaky hands brought the note to her lips as she kissed it gently. Refolding and securely tucking it into her robes, she rose with the golden flower now in her hand._  
  
_Walking along the central trail to the palace, she crouched at a bare patch of stone to the side of the path. With a wave of her hand, the stone melted and parted, as fluid as water, eagerly accepting the stem of the flower as she carefully positioned it in the newly formed indent._  
  
_Drawing herself up to her full height, she looked over the sea of gold that radiated from the foot of the castle, its newest addition swallowed up in an ocean of flowers sent down from the world above._  
  
_She looked out over her home; over the golden sea their love had made, the luminous rock and marbled palace, and the enchanted sky, now turning from gold to muted pinks and purples as the sun set. Soon it would be full of joy again. She would be home._  
  
_“I will see you soon love,” she whispered, staring at the ceiling overhead. “I will see you very soon.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
That night, Taylor woke with a start, the scent of flowers still in her mind and a horrid feeling of absence in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically imagine this Taylor: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C6m4bgjWkAALccf.jpg
> 
> With this Karlie: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CYXmpP5UsAE-OrU.jpg


	2. You Dream Impossible Things

Taylor was six when she got her first cat, almost five months after that first dream. She and her mom were in the kitchen eating breakfast, the tiny blonde sitting in her chair reading a library book on the story of Persephone.  
  
Andrea didn’t comment on her daughter’s newfound interest on Greek mythology, or why she suddenly insisted that the stories about Hades were all wrong. Taylor herself didn’t fully understand why she was so defensive. It was only a dream after all. At least that’s what she told herself whenever she toyed with the idea that it could be anything else.  
  
If it was a dream, it was weirdly detailed. She had never heard of Hades or Persephone until that night. There was no way her brain could have fabricated a story like that. But Taylor had no magic powers, couldn’t make a flower bloom if she tried. And she was only a kid. In the dream she, no the woman, Persephone, was much older.  
  
Taylor munched her pancakes, a small frown gracing her features as she read her book.  
  
_“Before anyone could stop him, Hades grabbed Persephone and boarded his chariot before diving deep into the darkest depths of the Underworld. He locked Persephone in the smallest room in the Hall of Hades…”_  
  
With an angry grunt, Taylor slammed the book closed, staring down at her empty plate.  
  
Andrea watched her daughter carefully before finishing her coffee. Leaning forward against the table she considered the small blonde before her.  
  
“Taylor sweetie,” she began, “your birthday is in a few days isn’t it?” Taylor nodded, eyes brightening slightly at the mention of her birthday.  
  
“Well,” her mother continued casually, “it turns out one of your presents arrived early. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in taking a quick drive with me to pick it up?”  
  
Taylor was out of seat and halfway to the front door by the word drive.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Her mom had gotten her a kitten. A tiny calico with an orange smudge over her nose. Andrea had never seen a bigger smile on her daughter’s face than when the kitten pushed its head into her hand, asking for affection.  
  
“Do you like her sweetie?”  
  
“I love her,” Taylor whispered cuddling her new pet close.  
  
“Well that’s a relief. Have you thought of a name yet?”  
  
Taylor looked at the cat, staring back at her with big green eyes, feeling a familiar pull in her chest.  
  
“Dee,” she said firmly.  
  
“Dee?” Andrea smiled. “That’s cute! It is short for anything? Diana? Daisy?”  
  
“Nope. It’s short for Hades.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_She stood before her family, hands folded behind her back to stop them from shaking. Her parents, her brother, all her aunts, uncles, and cousins sat around her family’s house, staring at her with open mouths._  
  
_“You want to marry….her?” Her mother whispered, voice dangerously low. Taylor swallowed hard and nodded._  
  
_“Yes,” she whispered, “I love her.” Seeing no response from the small crowd, she hesitantly continued._  
  
_“I love her. I know this means I cannot produce an heir for this family. I know this goes against what is usually done. And I know this will lead to a joining of families that you probably disapprove of.”_  
  
_“I know she is a woman, as am I. But I love her more than I can say. For me that will always be enough.” Taking a shaky breath, she stared down at her feet. “I just hope it is enough for you,” she finished weakly._  
  
_Silence reigned for what felt like hours, years. Still she stood, praying to the gods that her family would say something._  
  
_It was her mother that finally moved, standing and taking great strides towards her eldest, who continued to look down at her boots._  
  
_“What you are asking defies tradition, my daughter,” She said with an edge in her voice. Taylor nodded, trembling, throat unbearably tight._  
  
_“Even more, what you are asking for robs us, this family of an heir until your brother weds, that is assuming he finds a bride.” Taylor could only nod again, tears pricking her eyes._  
  
_She already felt a hot flash of guilt twist her insides. How foolish they both were, to ever entertain the idea such a union would be approved._  
  
_“Does she make you happy?” Taylor’s head snapped up._  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“Does she make you happy?” her mother pressed. “What do you feel with her?”_  
  
_Taylor’s mind went blank. How to put it into words? How to articulate something that never needed an explanation until now?_  
  
_“I…she….” Taylor stuttered before clearing her throat harshly. “She makes me feel peace. And yet it is like no peace I have ever felt before. It is calm, yes, but it is also joy.” Voice gathering strength, she finally looked her mother in the eye._  
  
_“She makes me stronger. I feel like….like I am falling and soaring at the same time.” Fiercely swiping at the tears that had begun to track down her cheeks, her actions were halted by her mother’s hand as it reached up to cup her face._  
  
_“You love her,” her mother stated. Taylor almost cried with relief at the tenderness she heard there. It was uttered as a fact, not a question._  
  
_“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes I do. More than anything.” Her mother’s face split into a smile._  
  
_“That’s all I ask for. You have my permission.” Taylor nearly fainted then and there. Hurling herself into her mother’s arms, she began crying in earnest._  
  
_“Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_She had collapsed in bed that night, hoping, praying that across the village, another family was making the same decision to support their daughter. She and her love met the next morning, both with hopeful eyes and smiles on their faces. They were going to be married. They were going to be wives._  
  
_The Ostmen, for that was what her people called themselves, known to some as Vikings, were meticulous when it came to weddings. As such, the next months for the two women were spent in a blissful state of happiness, no longer needing to hide their love._  
  
_They could walk the village freely, hands joined, without fear of their secret reaching the ears of their families, simply being, living, and feeling together._  
  
_Of course there were whispers and prying gazes as the news spread of their union, even more so when it was discovered it was condoned by their families. Society dictated that no woman would suffer an unwanted touch from a man, but that did nothing to stop the occasional jeer from the village drunk, the town gossip, their neighbours._  
  
_The pair couldn’t care less. They had each other. They were engaged. That in itself was an impossibility they only ever dreamed of._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_In the week leading up to the wedding, they were separated. As unorthodox as this arrangement was, her mother was adamant they follow whatever traditions they could._  
  
_Brides and grooms usually parted prior to the event, each taken by the other females or males of their family to complete their individual rituals. For the two of them, they would both be taken by their respective maternal figures to undergo the ceremonials that will take them from maiden to woman._  
  
_The night before was filled with chaste kisses and plans for the future. They were lying in the upstairs loft of her love’s workshop, the walls lined with carpets and pelts, loops of different fabrics draped across the ceiling and rolls of material stacked in every corner._  
  
_The pair were curled in the makeshift bed haphazardly created when they first spent the night together, stacks of furs over bundles of hay built when hiding and silence were still necessary._  
  
_“They’ve left the location of the honeymoon up to us,” Taylor whispered sleepily. “Where shall we go?”_  
  
_Her fiancé propped herself up on one elbow, stretched out beside her, contemplating._  
  
_“Somewhere near the ocean,” she said firmly. “Somewhere where it’s just us, and the waves. Where we can both just rest, away from everyone else.” Smiling she turned and considered Taylor, the candlelight gilding her hair a soft gold._  
  
_“We can spend all day at the beach. I can bring my work, you can bring your writing,” leaning down, she pressed a solid kiss to Taylor’s forehead, before tilting her head to rest against the one below her._  
  
_“I don’t care what we do, or for how long. I just know I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”_  
  
_Taylor grinned and scooted herself closer to the other woman, peppering small kisses to her neck and collarbones._  
  
_“And what work would you be bringing my love?” she now asked, tracing light patterns down her side._  
  
_A seamstress by trade, Taylor’s betrothed was unique among the village for crafting garments that were both practical in style and beautiful to the eye._  
  
_There was no reason, she always said, that the people of this village could not complete their work while looking and feeling a bit special. It was because of her that the young ones of the village now ran with patches of colour sewn into their clothes, where there used to be nothing but a variance of brown._  
  
_“What work shall I bring?” the seamstress asked teasingly._  
  
_“Yes you idiot,” Taylor laughed, playfully poking her side. “I have my words, I can take them anywhere, all I need is ink and parchment. But I know for a fact you haven’t accepted any new commissions in the past month. So I ask you again,” she leaned forward, “what work shall you bring?”_  
  
_“Shall I tell you?” the other woman asked, eyes sparking mischievously. Taylor nodded, wondering at the air of secrecy._  
  
_Her love quietly rose from the bed, crossing the space to the set of drawers in the corner, pulling out a package tied with leather string. Taylor frowned in confusion as she returned to the bed, head bowed._  
  
_“I know it might seem a bit premature,” she mumbled, handing the wrapped item to Taylor. “But I have been working on this for a few weeks now. Just… I know we might not ever have a need for this but… I…” the green-eyed woman trailed off, deterred by a sudden nervousness._  
  
_Hating to see her future wife so uneasy, Taylor reached forward, not for the package, but for her lover’s chin, tilting her head up for a reassuring kiss. Seeing her fiancé smile once again, she took the item from her hands._  
  
_As she untied the last wrapping, a swathe of deep blue streamed out. Taylor gasped, unfolding a blanket made of the silken material from the East. The seamstress seldom experimented with this material; it was far too precious and rare to waste._  
  
_This fabric was a colour Taylor had never seen before, as rich and iridescent as the night sky, a circle of blue so dark it was almost black. A delicate sprawl of needlework created a line of blooming gold flowers, interwoven with silver leaves that framed about a quarter of the circle._  
  
_The blue of the circle itself was scattered with individual points of clear white thread, some larger and pointed, some miniscule, spreading nearly halfway across. A perfect replica of the night sky. Loose threads hung off partially completed flowers and unfinished constellations, clear signs of unfinished work, and the promise of unspeakable beauty upon completion._  
  
_For all its beauty, this was no decorative piece. The blue silk was backed with a thick layer of light-coloured wool, clearly meant for keeping cool in the warm summer months, yet warm enough to endure long winters. Practicality and beauty, seamlessly woven into one; her love’s specialty._  
  
_It suddenly struck her that this was far too small to encompass a grown adult, or even a child. Only an infant could be held in this, and the realisation almost brought Taylor to tears._  
  
_“I know we can never give each other children,” the seamstress rushed to explain, “but there’s always adoption. We can find a way. Not that I want to push you into…” the woman was cut off by a press of lips to her own, as Taylor surged forward to meet her, momentarily casting the blanket aside._  
  
_The pair fell back onto the covers, giggling between kisses, Taylor propped above the other woman with her hands braced on either side of her shoulders._  
  
_“You are,” Taylor kissed her forehead._  
  
_“Without a doubt,” she pressed a kiss to her nose._  
  
_“The best thing,” she said as she kissed her cheeks._  
  
_“That’s ever been mine,” she concluded with a final kiss to the lips. Leaning back, she contemplated the woman below her, musical laughter filling the air._  
  
_“It’s perfect,” she whispered reverently. “I don’t care that we cannot have children of our own. The Gods let us find each other, they are letting us become wives. They will gift us with a child when the time is right. I know it.”_  
  
_“And you, my love,” she gazed adoringly at the other woman, “are going to be the best mother in the land.”_  
  
_“You think so?”_  
  
_“I know so.”_  
  
_The couple lay there for the rest of the night, dreaming of oceans and stars and a baby with hair as blonde as theirs._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor rose early. That day was the last time she would see her love before the wedding._  
  
_Clothed and packed, she sat at the edge of the bed, brushing stray hairs away from the sleeping woman’s face. Gently she ran her fingers across her features, drinking in the beauty before her, as if memorising it one last time._  
  
_Leaning down, Taylor pressed a kiss against the seamstress’ cheek, forehead coming to rest for a moment on her temple, eyes closed. Suddenly the vwoman beneath her shifted, turning so that their foreheads now rested together._  
  
_Opening her eyes, Taylor smiled as she looked into a pair of green ones._  
  
_“Promise me you’ll still be real when we meet next,” the seamstress murmured._  
  
_“I will be,” Taylor whispered. “The next time you see me, we will be wives.”_  
  
_The other woman smiled before sleepily tilting her head up to give her a lazy kiss. Taylor pulled away laughing, lightly running her fingers over the woman’s forehead in the way she knew sent her to sleep._  
  
_“Sleep love,” she murmured. “A week will fly by before you know it.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor heaved a shuddering breath, looking at herself in the polished metal surface of the mirror. Her long blonde hair was swept back into an intricate braid that looped across and down the side of her head, trailing down her shoulder._  
  
_On her head was the bridal crown passed down to each woman in her family, inlaid with white and blue quartz crystals that gleamed in the light._  
  
_Staring at herself, wearing the same sky blue dress her mother wore at her own wedding, she felt surreal. This was truly happening. She was getting married. The thought itself was enough to make her knees shake._  
  
_Feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder, she turned to face her mother, eyes shining with pride._  
  
_“Ready?” she asked simply._  
  
_Taylor almost laughed at the absurdity of the question._  
  
_“I am.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_She was wearing green. Taylor and her family had arrived at the wedding location, a tall cliff just a ways beyond their village. Her love was draped in a dress the colour of the proud trees that edged their home, her own bridal crown studded with shards of jade. Blonde hair cascaded down her back, intricately woven with small white flowers._  
  
_She was crying, tears freely flowing down her cheeks._  
  
_She was the most breathtaking sight Taylor had ever seen._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_They were introduced to Dahlia at the feast._  
  
_As was tradition, the families both made their way back to the village, where all the prepared food and drink had been delivered._  
  
_Taylor’s love, no her wife, completed the final ritual by burying her family’s sword in the ceiling of the feast hall. The depth to which the sword was embedded marked the enduring nature of the marriage, and everyone held their breath as the seamstress stepped up onto the main table, sword in hand._  
  
_They need not have worried. Years of hauling heavy rolls of fabrics, hours spent with her arms raised had benefits. She drove the sword in to its hilt._  
  
_Taylor sat ensconced in the plush couches of the hall, curled up next to her wife enjoying the festivities when her mother approached._  
  
_“I know this is not the most traditional of weddings,” the older woman said, smiling, “But I thought I would add this anyway.”_  
  
_And from behind her back, Taylor’s mother held out a kitten. A ginger, still tiny, but with the tell-tale long fur of the forest cats her people had taken to domesticating._  
  
_A spike of pure joy shot up Taylor’s body, enough to make her mouth drop open and her shoulders tense as she raised her head from her wife’s shoulder to take their new pet from her mother._  
  
_But her wife beat her to it._  
  
_There was a span of a few seconds where Taylor had to register the high pitched squeak in her ears before she realised it was emitting from the woman next to her. And those seconds were all it took for her wife to lurch forward and carefully take the kitten into her arms._  
  
_By the time Taylor turned towards her, lips quirked up in amusement, her wife had already buried her face into the fluffy creature’s fur with a goofy smile._  
  
_“Well, I am glad my gift was received well,” her mother laughed._  
  
_“You can say that,” Taylor giggled, tearing her eyes away from her wife. “Thank you mother.”_  
  
_The woman in question nodded, eyes sparking with pride as she rejoined the feast._  
  
_“We have our first child!” Taylor turned in time to see a small, furry face be thrust in front of her own, the kitten held out by the other woman. Grinning, she tickled the cat’s ears, peering over its head to meet the bright-eyed gaze of her wife._  
  
_“Our first child is she?” she teased, “I know I agreed to adopt if the opportunity presented itself, but this really is quite early is it not?”_  
  
_“Sweetheart, look at her face.” With that, Taylor’s nose was met with a small pink one. “Would you reject a child with a face like this?”_  
  
_Taking a moment to consider the ball of fluff before her, Taylor laughed._  
  
_“No, I guess I wouldn’t,” she murmured, taking the kitten from her wife. “What shall we call her?”_  
  
_The other woman furrowed her eyebrows in thought, absentmindedly toying with one of the cats ears._  
  
_“Dahlia,” she said firmly._  
  
_“From the valley,” Taylor said, recalling the name’s meaning. “Perfect.”_  
  
_Gently settling the kitten on her lap, she looked up to her wife. It was beginning to sink in that they were married. She had the right to call this woman hers, for the rest of their lives._  
  
_Blue eyes met green and the world melted away. Noise faded to a soft hush, as the pair reached for each other, cupping cheeks as they made to kiss for the first time as wives._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor’s alarm blared in her ear, startling her awake. Shooting upright, her eyes shot to Dee staring at her from the edge of her bed.  
  
Scrambling to her new pet, Taylor hugged her tightly.  
  
“Thank you thank you thank you,” Taylor rambled, burying her nose in soft fur.  
  
“You brought her back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dee: http://www.readersdigest.ca/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/why-are-all-calico-cats-female-1024x768.jpg
> 
> Dahlia: https://www.pets4homes.co.uk/images/classifieds/2014/10/23/794879/large/norwegian-forest-cat-1-2-cross-ginger-kitten-5458c296af833.JPG


	3. No One Can Hurt You Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of recent events, have some Kaylor fluff.

Taylor was ten when she first visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Four long years since that last dream.  
  
Overnight, Taylor’s fascination with history had branched to include Vikings, posters of their ships and fashions now adorning her bedroom walls. It seemed that, along with Dee, and the still-thriving mint plant on her windowsill, Taylor’s room was turning to a mini-museum of her mystery girl.  
  
After that second dream, Taylor had chased after something, anything that would trigger another. She wanted to see that girl again, desperately.  
  
Andrea would lose her daughter halfway through clothes shopping, always finding her with hands roaming over silk-like dresses, the same expectant look on her face.  
  
Some days she would come home to find her daughter lying on her stomach on top of the couch, face completely buried in Dee’s fur, as if she lost something in her cat.  
  
One clear night, Andrea had rushed outside to find Taylor sitting in the middle of the backyard, flashlight in hand and Dee in her lap, staring at the clear night sky.  
  
Two years of chasing after a glimpse of green eyes and Taylor had almost lost hope, that precious, familiar feeling the dreams had elicited fading from memory. The thought that she may never experience it again terrified her.  
  
But soon enough, she was caught up in the whirlwind of primary school. More often than not, maths and spelling kept thoughts of green eyes at bay.  
  
That day though, her inner history nerd had been brought out full force. She and her fourth grade class were taking a day trip to the New York museums. Everyone would take a tour of the Natural History Museum, and their choice of one other building.  
  
Both Taylor and her best friend Abigail had chosen to join the group for the Met. She had met Abigail when they were seven, when the tiny redhead girl shoved a boy who was making fun of Taylor’s pigtails. The pair had been inseparable ever since.  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The bus left early that morning. Taylor and Abigail had waved to their moms from the bus window, their green and pink backpacks crammed with enough peanut butter sandwiches to feed a village.  
  
The pair spent most of the ride with Taylor animatedly describing New York as best as she could remember, buildings and flowers and all. Abigail was the only one who knew about Taylor’s dreams, and both girls were hopeful that something from today would let Taylor see the woman again. Taylor was hesitant to tell her friend it was a girl, rather than a boy she dreamt of, but Abigail was unfazed, only interested in the joy it obviously brought her friend.  
  
Three hours and a snack break later, the girls began to explore the Met. Abigail took the lead, pulling Taylor to any painting that featured a blonde woman, leaves, or cats. Needless to say she was dragged to many pieces of art that morning.  
  
“Tay! Look at this!” Taylor wearily looked up at yet another large painting, nearly as tall as her, depicting a stern looking, thin-lipped woman.  
  
“Her hair’s blonde!” Abigail proudly pointed out before staring intently at her friend. “So? You getting anything?”  
  
Taylor shook her head, mouth twisted to one side in thought.  
  
“No,” she sighed. Taking a closer look at the painting, she shook her head again, more decidedly. “Her eyes aren’t the right colour,” she muttered dejectedly.  
  
Abigail was not discouraged. She didn’t know how it felt to miss something so intangible.  
  
“Never mind! We’ll get there!” The redhead dashed off, leaving Taylor to gaze forlornly at the painting.  
  
She felt silly for thinking she would find something today. What clues did she have? The first dreams were triggered by leaves and a cat for God’s sake. What were her chances of finding something here?  
  
“This is stupid,” Taylor chided herself.  
  
“I’m stupid,” she berated as she crossed the floor.  
  
“They’re just dreams. They’re. Just. Dreams. What did I expect? Suddenly Hades or a Viking lady would just magically appear during this trip? Stupid.”  
  
Taylor was abruptly pulled from her reverie at the realisation of where she was. Some invisible thread had pulled her across the room to a row of smaller display cases, containing single pages, sketches, items too small to hang on walls.  
  
Taylor’s feet had stopped in front of a case with a single watercolour inside, no larger than a sheet of notebook paper. Her eyes widened as they hastily scanned the image.  
  
A blonde woman lay reclined on a couch, one arm draped languidly down her side, head resting on a cushion. A lazy smile adorned her face, pale hair swept behind her head.  
  
This was not her mystery girl, she realised painfully. The eyes were too blue. And yet…  
  
Taylor’s thoughts were jarred to a halt as her teacher called for her students to gather. They still had a tour of the Natural History Museum to get to.  
  
With one last confused look at the display case, Taylor reluctantly rejoined her classmates, finding Abigail’s red hair in the crowd.  
  
“See anything?” Abigail asked as her best friend approached.  
  
Taylor shook her head sullenly, eyes flickering back to the display case.  
  
“No,” she murmured. “Nothing.”  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was wandering through the Hall of New York State Mammals when it happened. One minute she was staring through displays of local wildlife, the next a pair of green eyes and a small smile flickered in her head.  
  
It wasn’t as vivid as the first time in Central Park, but Taylor felt that familiar warmth resonance in her chest, for the first time in years.  
  
At a loss for what to do, she resorted to hitting Abigail’s arm to get her attention.  
  
“Hey! Ow ow ow! What was that for?” the redhead complained, rubbing her sore arm. Then her eyes widened in realisation. “Wait… wait did you see her?!”  
  
Taylor nodded, hands flapping as she fought to contain her excitement.  
  
“Oh my GOD!” Abigail practically shrieked, causing some heads to turn towards the pair. “That’s so COOL! Wait, what caused it? You’re telling me I ran around the whole Met for nothing?”  
  
Taylor pointed wordlessly towards a display case filled with models of squirrels, rabbits, and rats.  
  
“Rodents,” Abigail read the sign aloud. “Ew! Don’t you think that’s a bit weird? They do carry diseases and stuff.”  
  
“Who CARES?!” Taylor screamed. “I’m gonna see her again!”  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor had been pacing outside her cottage with such fierce worry she had worn a groove in the soggy earth. Wearily running her hands through her hair, she looked out over her village._  
  
_Her village. Once so alive, now as silent as a graveyard. And that’s what it had become, she supposed. Taylor herself now stood as countless others had, waiting for good news that she knew would not come._  
  
_The town physician stepped out of her house, an expression on his face that told of a man who now walked among the dead._  
  
_“Well?” Taylor stepped up to meet him. The man merely dropped his gaze to the ground, and with it Taylor’s heart shattered._  
  
_“No…” she gasped, vision blurring._  
  
_She only registered the man’s departure when the crunch of footsteps on cobblestones reached her ears._  
  
_“Wait!” she turned and raced after him, to the low stone wall marking the edge of her property. Struggling to catch her breath, she looked at him with pleading eyes._  
  
_“Please,” she breathed. “You must help. I’m begging you.”_  
  
_“I wish I could, Miss. Truly I do,” he said ruefully, refusing to meet her gaze._  
  
_“Are you certain nothing can be done?!”_  
  
_“Miss, if there was, our church would not be half-empty on Sundays, and we would not have so many families sleeping in the ground.” With a final nod, he was gone. And Taylor was left helplessly looking over her home, wind gently tugging her hair._  
  
_A month ago, this view from her house would be filled with the gentle sounds of village life, children’s laughter, the calls of livestock._  
  
_Now those who were left hid away in their houses, in fear of an unseen evil. Anyone who walked the village did so as if underwater; sluggishly, half asleep._  
  
_Taylor herself was unmarked, and yet she was starting to wonder which fate was worse._  
  
_Sighing, she made her way back to her house, bracing herself for what she knew was inside._  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Four weeks ago, Taylor had eagerly joined the rest of her village to welcome the delivery of new supplies that arrived every year along their trade route. Only this year, one merchant fell sick after he arrived, stricken by an illness that killed him within days._  
  
_It was after his death that the disease spread, the infected dying within days of the first symptom’s appearance._  
  
_There was no stopping it. And that beautiful unified town, Taylor’s home, broke apart._  
  
_The village rector soon announced that none should leave the village; that it was their sworn duty as God’s children to prevent the sickness from spreading._  
  
_It was within the stifling confines of the town that paranoia thrived, as contagious as any sickness._  
  
_Parents turned their backs on children the instant the fever began ravaging their small bodies. Husbands, once so devoted to their wives, abandoned them to an empty house and a slow death. People were driven mad, by fever or loss, or an all-consuming mix of the two. Bodies were disposed of hastily, cemeteries filling so rapidly that formal funerals were no longer arranged._  
  
_And throughout this hell, Taylor slept at night curled into the warmth of the body beside her, grateful that the Plague had not touched her family of two._  
  
_Until that morning._  
  
_Two hours ago, Taylor woke to an unbearable heat at her back, rolling over to find her lover flushed with fever, face twisted in discomfort._  
  
_The neighbours were woken that morning not by their rooster, but by Taylor’s horrified scream._  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor now opened the door to their bedroom, stopping to look at the form lying in bed, sheets thrown haphazardly around her body. As she stepped into the room, the woman stirred, green eyes sparkling as Taylor gently rearranged her blankets._  
  
_“Well if it isn’t my wife,” she chuckled. The pair were not married, of course, not in this society. But both knew in their hearts they belonged together. That was all they needed._  
  
_“And how is the most beautiful woman in the village this morning?” Taylor asked, sitting beside her._  
  
_“I cannot say I know,” the other woman teased. “How are you today?” Taylor let out a weak laugh, the woman below her grinning in triumph._  
  
_Reaching out, Taylor brushed back her wife’s hair from her face, the sick woman closing her eyes and nuzzling into her hand._  
  
_“Well, it warms my heart to see you still have your humour, my darling,” Taylor said._  
  
_“Love, I take offence that you have so little faith in me. No fever could ever damage my charm.” She joked._  
  
_“No,” Taylor murmured, taking her wife’s hand. “But this is not just a fever, is it?” she whispered, head bowed._  
  
_The other woman frowned. Gingerly lifting her head, she weakly pressed her forehead against Taylor’s, who closed her eyes and hummed forlornly at the contact. The fever had worsened in the precious few hours Taylor had spent away, heat now radiating from her wife in waves._  
  
_“Now you listen to me love,” the green eyed woman said firmly. “If you think for an instant I won’t fight this with all I have, then clearly you do not know me at all.”_  
  
_“I know you will,” Taylor choked. “And I will be with you the whole time.”_  
  
_“Promise?” the sick woman asked. Taylor smiled softly, pulling the blankets up to lie next to her wife._  
  
_“I promise.”_  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_The next morning, Taylor woke to the sound of her wife retching over the side of their bed. Scrambling awake, she hurriedly searched for a bucket, returning to sweep her love’s hair behind her face._  
  
_“Just breathe darling,” Taylor begged, as the other woman emptied her stomach._  
  
_“I’m sorry,” her wife sobbed between coughs. “I’m so sorry.”_  
  
_“No need to be. I can clean the floors,” Taylor soothed._  
  
_“No,” the other woman whimpered. “Not for that. I’m sorry the Plague found me.” Taylor frowned as she helped her wife lie down again. “We promised each other that we would weather this illness; that we would both survive. But now I’m sick and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”_  
  
_“Hush now,” Taylor chided. “I may not be able to stop this, but I will still stay with you. I will do anything to alleviate your pain, I promise.”_  
  
_“You think I care about my pain?!” Her wife shouted, lurching upright, startling Taylor._  
  
_“You think I care that I am going to lose my mind in a matter of days?! You think I care that I am going to DIE?!”_  
  
_“DO NOT talk like that!” Taylor yelled, anger spiking through her body. “You may not value your life, but I DO! I always will! Even if you are to die I will stay with you. You cannot be angry at me for choosing to be with the woman I love!”_  
  
_“THAT’S WHY I AM ANGRY!”_  
  
_“Oh so you would rather I just abandon you to die alone?!”_  
  
_“No!”_  
  
_“Then WHAT IS IT?!” Taylor screamed._  
  
_“I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO LEAVE YOU ALONE!” The blonde woman’s voice broke as she dissolved into another coughing fit._  
  
_Taylor’s anger slipped away as she rushed to retrieve a cup of water, returning to her wife’s side._  
  
_“I didn’t choose to leave you alone,” she continued after Taylor helped her drink. “You’ve chosen to stay with me, but I never asked to leave.” Her voice shuddered as she reached for Taylor’s hand, gripping it desperately._  
  
_“I am going to die, love,” she brokenly continued. “I am going to die and when I do I will leave you all alone here. You’re going to be alone. That is something I promised myself would never happen.”_  
  
_Both woman were sobbing as Taylor collapsed into her wife’s arms. As weak as she was, the other woman still held her with the same fierce tenderness as always, arms tightening around her shaking frame._  
  
_“I’m so sorry,” the sick woman cried. “I wanted so many more years with you. I never wanted to leave your side for an instant. Now I’m leaving you alone for the rest of your life, and I will never forgive myself for it.”_  
  
_“No, don’t blame yourself my darling. None of this was your fault.”_  
  
_“I’m so scared,” she whimpered, gripping Taylor close. “Once I die I’ll have no way of knowing what will happen to you.”_  
  
_Taylor gently wiggled out of her grasp, moving to meet her wife’s gaze._  
  
_“I’ll tell you what will happen to me,” Taylor said. “I am going to live. I am going to outlast this Plague, no matter how long it takes. And once I do, I am going to leave this place.”_  
  
_Her wife pulled away from her, frowning._  
  
_“Leave? Your home is here, love. It always has been.”_  
  
_“Well that is true, my home is here,” Taylor smiled, pressing a kiss to the other woman’s forehead. “My whole world is right here.” Her wife let out a watery laugh, burying her face into the crook of Taylor’s neck._  
  
_“Once you are taken there will be nothing left for me. Nothing but my memories of you. So I will leave. I’ll find a place, away from this town.” Taylor promised. “And there I will stay until I can return to you.”_  
  
_“You don’t have to wait for me,” her wife murmured, “You know that? If someone else enters your life who brings you joy…”_  
  
_“There will be no one else,” Taylor said firmly. “Do you understand? There will never be anyone who could replace you. I love you far too much to allow that.”_  
  
_The sick woman gave a sad smile, reaching up to cup Taylor’s cheek._  
  
_“I love you so much. Losing you will be the most painful thing about this,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry we had so little time together as wives.”_  
  
_“Oh darling,” Taylor whispered, “I wouldn’t have traded our time for the world.”_  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_The pair spent that day telling stories and recalling memories, the only thing to do when no time was left to make more. The smallest recollections suddenly seemed to hold so much weight, and throughout the day Taylor found herself torn between laughing and weeping._  
  
_As the stories went on, the fever worsened. Taylor could only watch as exhaustion coursed through her wife’s body, her laughter fading to pained moans. Evening had just fallen when she finally admitted how much she was burning, and Taylor briefly left to collect more water._  
  
_When she returned, she was greeted once more by the sight of her wife retching onto the floor, sheets discarded on the floor._  
  
_“I’m sorry,” the sick woman gasped for the hundredth time that day, as Taylor again retrieved the bucket._  
  
_“You know love,” Taylor said, as she manoeuvred her wife back into bed, “I believe you have apologised to me more in the past day than you have in your whole life.”_  
  
_“I’m sorry,” her wife apologised again, suddenly alert. “Darling you should leave. You’ll die too if you stay. You need to leave me!” she shouted, eyes glassy and unfocused._  
  
_“No,” Taylor said simply. “I’m staying.”_  
  
_The sick woman looked as if she was about to protest as Taylor gently pushed her back down. Instead, the instant her back hit the sheets, she turned to the side, curling in on herself._  
  
_“Cold,” she muttered. Taylor frowned as she pressed her hand to her wife’s forehead, feeling the alarming heat radiating from her body, much higher than before._  
  
_Taylor spent the evening desperately trying to bring the fever down. In a matter of minutes, she had stripped the bed of its sheets and replaced her wife’s sweat-drenched clothes._  
  
_And as she did so, Taylor looked at the love of her life. Looked at the way her vibrant eyes had already begun to dull. Looked at her hair, matted and browned with sweat, robbed of its usual blonde hue. Looked at her once glowing skin, now a sickly grey, drawn painfully tight across her bones._  
  
_As desperately as she wanted to believe otherwise, Taylor knew this was the healthiest her wife would ever be again._  
  
_Night had long since fallen when her temperature finally fell into a range that Taylor was satisfied with. Exhausted and heartbroken, she fell into a restless sleep, cradling her wife’s hand between her own._  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_By the third day, her love’s breathing had degenerated to a harsh rattle, ribs jutting out against paper-thin skin with each inhalation. Taylor wept as she surveyed the sores that now bulged from her wife’s skin. She rarely spoke now, all her energy directed towards withstanding the pain that ran rampant through her body._  
  
_On the forth morning Taylor fully expected to wake next to a corpse. And yet her wife gazed at her with pained eyes, and a small smile on her face. And for one treacherous, selfish moment, Taylor allowed herself to hope that her love would survive this disease._  
  
_But as she saw the angry red rings that marred her love’s skin, that brief spark of hope flickered and died. Plague tokens. The painful abrasions that indicated its victim had only hours of life left._  
  
_For Taylor, there was nothing left to do but lie next to her wife, holding her close as her body burned and shook with delirium._  
  
_By noon, she began talking in her sleep, crying out for Taylor. As the sun continued to sink in the sky, she called Taylor mother, then father, and soon lost the strength to talk altogether._  
  
_And as night fell, Taylor looked at the body next to her, at the greying skin and sunken eyes, at the prominent cheekbones and the weak grip on the bedsheets. And she knew, enough was enough._  
  
_Crawling into bed that night, Taylor’s lips pressed against her wife’s hair, limp and dull from days gone without bathing._  
  
_“You can stop fighting my darling,” she sobbed brokenly against her temple. “It’s alright. You can stop fighting now.”_  
  
_A single word formed in her mind as Taylor fearfully counted the seconds between her wife’s breaths._  
  
_“Please.”_  
  
_As strongly as she willed it, she could not conjure anything to follow that word. No Bible verse, no piece of liturgy came to mind. A lifetime of attending church, countless hours listening to psalms, for nothing._  
  
_After so many days of unanswered prayers, Taylor had lost the will to pray._  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_An insistent knock rose Taylor from her sleep that morning. Raising herself up from the bed, she glanced at her wife._  
  
_A small frown graced her features, but her eyes remained still beneath her eyelids, her fevered shivering momentarily subdued._  
  
_“Good,” Taylor thought. “At least she’s sleeping more peacefully now.”_  
  
_Leaving for the first time in days, she made her way to the front door. Opening it, she was greeted by the neighbours’ daughter, a haunted look on her face that made Taylor’s heart jolt in fear._  
  
_“Ella. What is it? What has happened?” At this, Ella only looked at her incredulously._  
  
_“My mother sent me to help you Miss,” the younger girl explained hesitantly. “She thought you would need it considering…”_  
  
_“Ella,” Taylor said, kindly, “I appreciate your offer, but I am managing on my own. You run and give your mother my thanks, but tell her that I am taking good care of my wi-… my friend.” Ella went from looking puzzled to bewildered at Taylor’s words._  
  
_“I need to get back to her now, if you don’t mind,” Taylor said, closing the door. Before she could, Ella shot out a hand and forced it open._  
  
_“Miss,” she said cautiously. “She’s dead.”_  
  
_Taylor’s heart stopped._  
  
_“What are you talking about Ella?” she said, voice dangerously low._  
  
_“Your friend Miss. She’s dead.”_  
  
_“No,” Taylor shook her head, smiling. “No, no she’s not. She’s just resting now, she-"_  
  
_“Miss,” Ella said gently, “we can smell it. The whole street can”_  
  
_“No.” Taylor’s vision began to darken around the edges._  
  
_“That’s why mother sent me.”_  
  
_“No!” Her head began to swim._  
  
_“She’s gone Miss.”_  
  
_“NO!”_  
  
_Taylor tore away from the door and raced back to her bedroom; back to her wife._  
  
_Slamming into the door frame, her eyes desperately shot to the figure in bed._  
  
_Her wife wasn’t breathing._  
  
_And the world, Taylor’s world, shattered._  
  
_She only vaguely registered Ella’s presence behind her as she ran to the bed._  
  
_She distantly heard a wild howling in her ears as she took the woman’s face in her hands, lifting her eyelids, shaking her body, frantically searching for any sign of life._  
  
_She hardly saw the crowd Ella fetched when she was unable to pry Taylor off the body, her neighbours looking in with a mixture of disgust and sorrow._  
  
_What she did feel were strong hands wrap around her arms, forcing her away from the bed, away from her wife. Taylor began to bite and claw at anyone who touched her, senseless to everything but the woman she loved lying too still and far too alone in their bed._  
  
_She only just registered the tears were streaming down some of the onlookers’ faces._  
  
_They were crying._  
  
_But the wild howling was all Taylor’s._  
  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Andrea jolted awake that night with that acute panic that only stems from a mother sensing their child is in pain.  
  
Following the sound of screaming, she rushed to her daughter’s room, seeing the small girl thrashing around in her sleep.  
  
Taylor woke up with a screech still dying in her throat, her mother’s arms rocking her back and forth.  
  
That night was the first time Taylor woke up crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say fluff? I meant angst.


	4. Love Is A Ruthless Game

As she lay in her mom’s warm embrace that night, Taylor felt as though her heart had been torn from her chest, a hollow ache that seemed impossible to quell. Dee, woken by her owner’s movements, ambled across the bed and gently pawed at her elbow.  
  
“How could she?” Taylor thought, as she cuddled her cat close. “How could she leave me like that?”  
  
It took Andrea a good hour to stop Taylor’s crying, becoming more worried as the minutes passed. Ten years, and she had never seen her daughter this distraught. Eventually her tears subsided and Taylor pulled away from her mother, eyes trained on the floor.  
  
“Taylor sweetie? How about we get some water?”  
  
It was only in the kitchen when her mom passed her a cup that Taylor realised her hands were shaking.  
  
“So,” Andrea began gently, as they sat on the living room couch. “That was a pretty big nightmare wasn’t it?” Taylor nodded.  
  
“Was it the spiders again? From when you were little?” Taylor shook her head as she remembered climbing into her mom’s bed, swearing she still felt spiders in her hair.  
  
But unlike when she was little, there was no lingering sensation after this dream. Nothing but the feeling she was forgetting something, that she should know why she felt like this.  
  
“Sweetie? Can you tell me what your dream was about?”  
  
Taylor tensed. Telling Abigail was one thing, but her mom? Telling her mom would bring up questions Taylor was still trying to find the answers to. She knew she could never lie to her mom about how those dreams felt.  
  
Telling her mom would mean her feelings for her mystery girl would no longer be her own secret.  
  
“Taylor?” The small blonde startled as felt her mother pull her into a comforting hug. “Oh, honey. It’s alright. It was just a nightmare.” Taylor vehemently shook her head, unable to bear the thought that her dreams didn’t hold any significance.  
  
“Did something happen at the museum today?” Taylor nodded. “Yeah? Did another kid say something mean to you?”  
  
“No,” Taylor hesitated, “that’s not it.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me what it is. I just want to make sure my baby’s okay. I’ll always love you, you know that right?” Taylor nodded again. She could doubt her dreams all she liked, but she would never doubt her mom’s love.  
  
“I was dreaming about a girl,” she started.  
  
“Yeah? Is it a girl you know? A mean one?”  
  
“No!” Taylor exclaimed. “No, she’s beautiful and kind and gentle, and…” she trailed off.  
  
“Have I met this girl?”  
  
“No. I don’t know who she is.” She was already regretting this. She must sound half mad. Andrea raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
  
“You sound like you know her quite well though?”  
  
“Yeah. Well, no. I’ve never met her in real life, but in the dreams it always feels really familiar.”  
  
“So this isn’t the first dream you’ve had about her,” Andrea stated. “When was the first?”  
  
“Our first trip to New York. We were in Central Park-”  
  
“The mint leaves?”  
  
“Yeah. You remember that?” Taylor asked in surprise.  
  
“Sweetie, you were looking at that plant as if it had just sprouted wings and told you all the mysteries of the universe. Of course I noticed,” her mother joked. “So the first dream came after that?”  
  
“That night,” Taylor confirmed.  
  
“I take it that one was a good dream?”  
  
“Yeah,” Taylor smiled. “That one was nice. I made flowers for her.”  
  
“You _made_ flowers?”  
  
“I had flower-making powers in that one. I think I was Persephone and she was Hades. It was almost time for me to go back to the Underworld and I sent her a flower.”  
  
“I see,” Andrea nodded seriously. “Well, that certainly explains your Greek mythology phase. I’m guessing the next one was about Vikings?”  
  
“Mmm. We got married,” Taylor said shyly, hiding her face in her mother’s arms.  
  
“Is that right?” Andrea smiled, unfazed. “Was it a nice wedding?”  
  
“It really was. She was wearing green and had flowers in her hair. We had to spend a week apart before the wedding, but we were going to go to the beach for our honeymoon. We got a cat as a wedding gift.”  
  
Andrea listened suspended halfway between amusement and enthralment. Even for a kid’s dreams, these seemed a bit too detailed to be considered normal, especially hearing how much Taylor still remembered from them.  
  
“And tonight? Did something happen to her?” Andrea asked, already knowing the answer. The smile on Taylor’s face vanished.  
  
“She was sick,” she whispered, almost inaudible. “Really sick.” Andrea didn’t need to hear more.  
  
“I’m sorry honey. That must hurt so much,"she said as she hugged her daughter. “So what’s your girl’s name then?”  
  
Taylor looked at her mom in astonishment, sifting through her dreams to find an answer, and failing.  
  
There was never a name.  
  
“I don’t know,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I… I’ve never called her by her name.”  
  
“Oh? What do you call her?”  
  
“Darling, Love,” Taylor’s face reddened. “Things like that.”  
  
“Ah,” Andrea smiled at her daughter’s embarrassment. “Sweetheart, look at me. Thank you for telling me. It sounds like you’ve been dealing with this for quite some time, and I know it must be very important to you. So thank you for trusting me with this.”  
  
“You don’t think I’m mad? You’re not going to get me tested or anything?” Taylor asked, wiping her nose with her wrist.  
  
“Oh as if I would send you to a doctor for having dreams. Everyone has them.”  
  
“Yeah, but these don’t feel like normal dreams,” Taylor admitted.  
  
“Mmm,” Andrea hummed. “You know what I think?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I think that whatever these dreams are, you should-“  
  
“Ignore them, I know. They’re probably nothing.” Taylor interrupted.  
  
“Quite the opposite actually. You know my mother once told me that we can only dream about people we already know. Maybe you’ve seen your girl once before, you just don’t remember where.  
  
“You think my dreams mean something?” Taylor asked hopefully.  
  
“I do,” her mother replied. “Don’t forget about them completely alright? But don’t let them get you down too much. From what you’ve told me, I doubt your girl is done visiting you yet.”  
  
Taylor looked away then, eyes unfocused as she recalled her most recent dream.  
  
“I’m not sure I want her to anymore.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was thirteen when she got her first guitar.  
  
Andrea observed her daughter carefully in those following years. There was a new wariness about her; somehow Andrea knew that she was scared of causing another dream. Her exuberant little girl was now moving through life like someone who walked on glass.  
  
School became worse. As Taylor and her classmates hit their early teen years, social hierarchies created new unspoken rules, new groups, and new arrogances. Abigail mostly went by unnoticed. But quiet, thoughtful Taylor became the primary target for other girls looking to establish their dominance.  
  
Andrea spoke with the teachers, of course. She knew what was happening, even if Taylor wouldn’t tell her. But it seemed as if she was powerless to stop Taylor’s reticence. And one afternoon, when Taylor came home crying, Andrea grabbed the keys and bundled her daughter into the car.  
  
She had considered this for some time. Aside from her accumulating pile of history books, Taylor had no real hobbies; nothing constructive to take her mind off school. She had been thinking hard about introducing her daughter to something that would pass the time and keep her mind busy. Something that could be entirely hers.  
  
Taylor had always loved singing, making up little tunes that often filled the house, and this seemed like a logical progression.  
  
So after some quick window shopping, Andrea led them to the nearest music store, heading straight to the guitars. Taylor curiously ran her hands over the strings and frets.  
  
“Mom? Why are we in here?”  
  
“Well,” Andrea waved one of the store owners over, “This is Dan. He visits people’s houses to teach guitar, and he’s free after school if you want to try a few lessons.”  
  
Taylor shook the man’s hand, still puzzled.  
  
“And you want me to start guitar because…?”  
  
“No reason,” Andrea said shrugging. “I’m not going to force you. I just thought you might like to try something new.”  
  
Taylor’s eyes wandered over the instruments on the wall, and her mind drifted to her dreams. To the feeling of calloused fingers, hardened by years of manual work, interlaced with hers.  
  
“Yeah,” she smiled. “Yeah I think I’d like that.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was never a star student, but she was certainly no airhead. She worked hard to get decent grades, but never high enough to draw attention. Andrea often wondered if that was a calculated move on her daughter’s part.  
  
But after Dan started lessons twice a week after school, Taylor appeared to be more driven. Homework, it seemed, needed to be finished as fast as possible to make time to practice on her rental guitar.  
  
Slowly, her grades began to improve. And when she got her first A+ in English, Andrea knew exactly how to celebrate.  
  
So on her thirteenth birthday, Taylor was taken back to Dan’s store to receive her first guitar. She was overjoyed, talking animatedly with her mom about the song ideas floating in her head.  
  
But as they were walking out the door, a loud crash sounded from the back room; the sound of falling metal and scraping guitar strings echoing through the store. Both Andrea and Taylor spun around in alarm.  
  
“Dan?” Andrea called anxiously, “everything alright?”  
  
“Fine,” Dan’s head poked out from the doorway. “The trainee back there just knocked some stands over.”  
  
“Need any help?”  
  
“No, we should be alright,” Dan smiled. “I’ll see you ladies next week?”  
  
“See you then,” Andrea replied. It was only when she turned back to Taylor that she realised how pale her daughter’s face had become, eyes wide and fearful.  
  
“Taylor? Are you okay?”  
  
Taylor’s hands were balled into fists as she stared at the ground. Unknown to Andrea, the moment the sound of jarring metal reached her ears, Taylor’s mind was filled with the image of green eyes.  
  
Green eyes, and the sight and sound of clashing swords.  
  
“Taylor?” Andrea asked, voice laced with concern.  
  
“I saw her,” Taylor gasped.  
  
“Come on,” her mom said steering Taylor to the car. Once the pair were seated, and the guitar safely in the back seat, Andrea turned to her daughter, waiting.  
  
Taylor took a shuddering breath.  
  
“I saw her.” Andrea nodded, not pressing for information.  
  
“I saw her,” Taylor began rambling, “it was definitely her, she had the same green eyes and it felt the same as I did in New York and when I got Dee and at the Met.” She took a sharp breath, glancing fearfully at her mom.  
  
“It’s never happened because of a sound before. It’s always been from something I touched or something I saw. And I just saw swords, Mom, _swords!_ I can’t do this again. I don’t know what I’ll do if she dies again.”  
  
Taylor was nearly in hysterics as Andrea pulled her into a tight hug.  
  
“You don’t know she’s going to be hurt. You said the first few dreams were fine.”  
  
“Yeah but what if she does? They used to be nice but it hurt so much last time.”  
  
“If she does, then you can rest easy knowing that it’s just a dream. Whatever pain your girl is feeling, it’s not real.”  
  
Taylor fell silent as she rested her head against Andrea’s shoulder, pondering.  
  
“Mom? Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”  
  
“Of course honey.”  
  
Taylor fell asleep that night with a ball of worry in her stomach, her mom beside her, and Dee curled peacefully on her chest.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor flinched as the sound of clashing metal rang through the air. She was seated as always, beside her parents, watching the final match of the tournament unfold._  
  
_Normally, Taylor found these fights boorish, nothing more than hot-headed men flexing their egos under the guise of a sport. But this match had her gripping the arms of her chair, fixated on the men in the ring._  
  
_Well, the people in the ring._  
  
_As she heard the crowd roar, Taylor looked up to see one knight on the ground, his competitor standing proudly above him._  
  
_The prince on the ground was clutching his side, and upon closer inspection, Taylor saw that one of the plates protecting his ribs had been dislodged, earning his adversary a point._  
  
_Taylor wasn’t surprised. Even in this match, where points were gained by removing pieces of your opponent’s armour, the metal that protected him was purely decorative, designed for flair, not true battle._  
  
_It was all show, much like the man who wore it. His Royal Highness, Prince Adam. Born into the royal family of Taylor’s neighbouring kingdom, known for his distaste for anyone less wealthy than his family, and his half-decent skill with a sword._  
  
_Taylor had the unfortunate pleasure of making his acquaintance some years ago. Her first impression? Egotistical, disrespectful, hubristic. And now, Taylor watched with barely contained amusement as he struggled to his feet._  
  
_If Prince Adam fought with the cruel brute strength of an overconfident man, the other knight held themselves with a fluid grace; smooth, calculated, quietly vicious in their movement._  
  
_His opponent, who stood in a simple well-used suit of armour, decorated only with a symbol of the sun on the back plate, stood above him, modestly letting their enemy regain his footing. With their armour design, and the radiance in which they fought, it was small wonder that crowds had dubbed this competitor the Knight of the Sun._  
  
_A new appreciative yell rose from the audience as Adam tore off his helmet, his face contorted with rage. With an ugly roar, he clumsily charged to attack his opponent. The Sun Knight easily turned to the side, parrying his attack and using their momentum to strike the hilt of their sword into his face._  
  
_Taylor grimaced at the sight of blood streaking across Adam’s lips as he aimed another swing at his opponent’s head. The Knight of the Sun leaned back, out of his reach, but the momentary loss of balance was all Adam needed to aim another blow at their shoulder. The other knight ducked under his sword, and before Adam could realign himself, he had lost another plate from his ribs._  
  
_A cheer rose from the crowd as the pair circled each other. Though they appeared evenly matched for a time, Taylor had witnessed enough duels to notice Adam’s frustration was clouding his technique, his attacks becoming unrefined._  
  
_Suddenly, with a livid yell, Adam charged, sword overhead. His opponent brought up their blade to block him, but Adam was quick to rotate his body and ram his shoulder into the knight’s chest, forcing them away._  
  
_Taylor watched in horror as the decorative spike of Adam’s shoulder guard pierced the Sun Knight’s breastplate, causing them to bow their head in pain._  
  
_Almost instantly, Adam dropped to his knees, a sick smile on his lips as he drove the blade’s end into his opponent’s foot, aimed perfectly where the shin guard met the chainmail of the armour’s feet._  
  
_An outraged cry came from the audience, Taylor included, as the Sun Knight was forced to one knee. As Adam circled around his downed competitor, a horn sounded, signalling the end of the round._  
  
_But before Taylor could sigh in relief, Adam wickedly swung his blade towards his opponent’s ribs._  
  
_Taylor squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of his weapon meeting its mark. It was a cheap move, but legitimate. The crowd became livid, yelling obscenities that appeared to go unnoticed by the prince._  
  
_Taylor watched as Adam sauntered to his side of the arena with a smirk. Frowning, she focused her gaze on the opposite knight._  
  
_The Sun Knight now limped with obvious pain, their head held proudly as their squire removed their damaged armour. Taylor watched in horror as four plates were removed; from the chest, ribs, leg, and foot._  
  
_In the final round of the tournament, knights needed to dislodge five pieces of armour to win. The Sun Knight already had two, but with the last assault, Adam had taken the lead with four._  
  
_Retrieving their sword, the wounded knight re-entered the ring, clearly favouring their left leg. An appreciative cheer rang through the crowd, followed by a scornful cry as Adam approached._  
  
_The Prince smiled as he saw the change in his opponent’s posture. Wanting to throw the injured knight off balance, Adam feigned an attack to their right, twisting to kick the back of their exposed leg once they attempted to deflect._  
  
_Unable to bear the weight on their wounded leg, the knight fell to their hands and knees, barely raising their sword in time to block Adam’s next hit. The prince kicked at their exposed ribs, pushing them onto their back._  
  
_Taylor held back a scream as Adam made to drive the blade into their chest._  
  
_Cheers arose as the injured fighter twisted and dodged the blow. The jarring impact of the sword on the hard ground distracted Adam enough to give his rival time to roll away, slashing behind them. With an exaggerated howl of pain, the prince looked down in time to see a plate fall loose from his leg._  
  
_Four to three._  
  
_The Sun Knight rolled to a stop and unsteadily stood. Adam roared as he brought his blade up to meet their shoulder. The other knight deflected the blow, almost lazily, following their momentum to twist and slice his back._  
  
_Four to four. The Sun Knight had caught up._  
  
_The infuriated Prince whirled around but took a step back. He watched as his opponent shifted their stance, facing him side on, placing their injured side away from him._  
  
_But they still kept their sword in their right hand, left side unprotected, practically welcoming Adam’s final attack._  
  
_With a malicious leer, he stormed forwards, sword in both hands, raised level with his rival’s chest._  
  
_Time seemed to slow as Taylor watched the charging prince, and noticed in horror his target was not making any attempt to dodge him. She wanted to scream, to run out and block the sword herself._  
  
_This was not an attack intended to knock off a piece of armour. This was to kill._  
  
_Adam was inches away when the Sun Knight deftly switched their sword from their right hand to their left. Dropping their right shoulder under the prince’s attack, they allowed Adam to run into their sword, flicking it up at the last minute and using his own force to dislodge his chest plate._  
  
_For a beat, there was no sound but the dull clank of armour hitting the dirt._  
  
_Then the crowd, for lack of a better term, lost their shit. Taylor was fairly certain she saw a few women faint._  
  
_And the victor of the tournament, moving labouriously with exhaustion, approached the platform where the royal family stood, applauding. Taylor looked on fondly as the knight knelt down on one knee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father rise._  
  
_“My subjects,” he boomed, motioning for the knight to rise. “It gives me great joy to present to you the winner of this year’s tournament, your champion… your Knight of the Sun!” Amidst the crowd’s deafening roar, the victorious knight stood proudly to their full height._  
  
_As they reached up to remove their helmet, short sweat-stained hair came free, falling in a cropped cut above a sharp jawline. A radiant smile of triumph adorned their face as the crowd’s cheering increased in volume, finally seeing the face of their victor._  
  
_But the woman standing nobly before them paid no heed to the noise behind her, instead locking her gaze with the princess._  
  
_And Taylor was met with a pair of tired, joyous, beautiful eyes, ignorant of everything except the smile and relieved tears of the princess._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_When Taylor entered the woman’s tent later that evening, she was met with the sight of her champion seated on a raised bench, being tended to by her squire. Armour and chainmail had been discarded, the knight clad only in light cotton pants, a bandage wrapped around her chest._  
  
_Taylor anxiously noted the woman’s shoulders were hunched, her hands gripping the edges of the bench tightly. Her eyes were squeezed shut as the younger woman finished dressing her injuries._  
  
_At the sound of Taylor’s entrance however, eyes snapped open, back straightened and hands unclenched as she smiled at the princess. Taylor hovered at the wall of the tent, wringing her hands as she watched the other woman address her squire._  
  
_“Thank you Cara,” she said gently. “That’s all I need for now. You go enjoy the rest of the celebrations.” The younger girl gave a curt nod before taking her leave, giving Taylor a mischievous wink as she passed._  
  
_Taylor bashfully ducked her head as Cara left the tent, leaving the pair in silence._  
  
_“Well don’t go getting shy on me Princess,” the knight teased, gingerly swinging her legs around the bench. “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”_  
  
_The smile on Taylor’s face was short-lived as the other woman faced her fully, revealing the damage to her right side. Adam’s attack had left a dark bruise blooming painfully across her chest and shoulder, a small patch of blood marking where the prince’s armour pierced her skin._  
  
_Trailing her eyes down the taller woman’s body, she could see the distinct, red outline of a foot disappearing under her bandage. Finally, Taylor’s eyes landed on her foot, the wrappings flecked with blood where Adam’s sword cut through the chainmail._  
  
_“Princess? Why are you crying?” With a start, Taylor began furiously swiping at her eyes until a gentle voice stopped her._  
  
_“Love?” Looking up at the other woman, Taylor saw her open her arms, oblivious to any pain in her shoulder. “Come here.”_  
  
_Taylor didn’t need to be told twice. In a few short strides she had melted into the knight’s embrace. As strong arms wrapped around her, Taylor sighed and rested her forehead against her shoulder, revelling in the comforting warmth of her bare skin. Her arms looped around the taller woman, fingers anchoring themselves into the dips and grooves of muscle on her back, holding her close._  
  
_The pair remained interlocked until Taylor couldn’t tell where her skin ended and her lover’s began. As she finally pulled away, the knight kept their hands on her waistline, keeping Taylor in the circle of her arms._  
  
_“Are you alright?”_  
  
_“Alright? I’m not the one with the injuries.” Taylor let out a wet laugh as she lightly touched the bandage circling her lover’s shoulder._  
  
_“Maybe, but I’m not the one crying.”_  
  
_“Yes, well, that tends to happen when the woman I love nearly dies,” Taylor retorted._  
  
_“Oh that’s an exaggeration. It was completely under control.”_  
  
_“Tell that to your shoulder,” Taylor muttered, pressing a kiss to the area. The taller woman hummed at the contact._  
  
_“Well you have to admit it was nice to see that spoiled prince put in his place. Hopefully that will be the last we see of him.”_  
  
_Taylor’s throat went dry. Hiding her eyes against the other woman’s shoulder, she tightened her grip around her waist. At her abrupt silence, the knight pulled away, hands tilting Taylor’s chin up._  
  
_“Princess?”_  
  
_“My parents want me to marry him.” Taylor blurted._  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“Prince Adam. They want me to marry him.” Her love pulled away from her, mouth agape._  
  
_“Why? I…he’s…darling he’s a disgusting, disrespectful, foolish excuse for a prince. Why him?” she stuttered._  
  
_“His family is incredibly wealthy. It is my father’s opinion that the union will be prosperous for our kingdom.”_  
  
_“I don’t believe that for a second. Your father once led us out of the most impoverished time in this kingdom’s history, and he did so without the need to marry off his daughter to an undeserving prince.”_  
  
_The knight ran her hands through her short hair in annoyance._  
  
_“So what, our kingdom goes through a time of poor business and his Majesty believes this of all things is the solution? I cannot accept that. How was this even considered an option?”_  
  
_“Adam’s parents came to us with the proposal,” Taylor muttered. “They believe the only way to…correct his character is through marrying a woman of good influence.”_  
  
_“To hell with his ‘character!’” the other woman spat. “It’s not your responsibility to fix that boy! Don’t you have any say in this?”_  
  
_Taylor hesitated. “No.”_  
  
_“Fine.” Stepping towards her, the taller woman took her hands in her own. “Run away with me.”_  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“Run away with me,” she repeated, shaking their joined hands. “We’ve always said we would. Just you and me. Out of the kingdom, away from the crowds.”_  
  
_Taylor shook her head. “We were both young when said that. Those were just dreams.”_  
  
_“Do you not love me?”_  
  
_“I do. You know I do,” Taylor said vehemently_  
  
_“Then what’s stopping you?”_  
  
_“Who would you have me be, darling?” Taylor said, distraught. “Would you have me be the princess of our kingdom or the woman who loves you? I can’t be both.”_  
  
_“Who says you can’t?”_  
  
_“I love you,” Taylor blurted. “I love you so much. I always will. But I have a duty that will always leave my desires secondary to what is best for my people, even if it means an unhappy marriage.”_  
  
_“I know that. I have always known that. But do you really want to rule these people if marriage is the cost? And to someone you despise?”_  
  
_“A true ruler does what is right for their people, foremost, and always” Taylor recited. “They owe everything to those they rule.”_  
  
_“Stop. Those are your father’s words. They don’t have to be yours.”_  
  
_“And besides,” Taylor continued, ignoring her. “Adam can’t be entirely bad. He’s a clever ruler, I’m sure he’s a worthy enough suitor for-”_  
  
_“Worthy?” Taylor abruptly stopped, realising her mistake._  
  
_“And I am not worthy enough to marry you,” the knight said, a low note of anger in her voice. “That’s what you’re saying.”_  
  
_“You are! Of course you are! Who you are has always been enough for me!”_  
  
_“Then why can’t we be together?”_  
  
_“You know why. I’m a princess. Society dictates I must marry someone of noble blood. Someone-”_  
  
_“Worthy.” The blonde knight finished. Crossing her arms, she took a step back. “And have I not spent my whole life, from the day we first met, working to become someone worthy of you?”_  
  
_Taylor swallowed hard. “That’s not what I-"_  
  
_“Oh yes it was. You can only marry someone who was lucky enough to be born into a position where he never has to prove his worth; who has never had to work for anything in his life. Nevermind that I started as a stablehand. Nevermind that I trained for years to make myself worthy of you,” the woman’s voice increased in volume._  
  
_“Everything I have ever done has been for you! All that I am, all that I have worked to be has been for you!”_  
  
_Taylor clenched her eyes shut as the knight began to yell, tears and guilt rolling off her in waves._  
  
_She thought back to when they were young. When she had confessed to the lanky stablehand that she never wanted to marry a boy. When the same woman standing before her held her hand and promised to become someone who could marry her; who was strong and respected enough to be worthy of a princess._  
  
_Her love was right. From stable hand, to page, to squire, to knight; everything had always been for Taylor._  
  
_“I’m sorry,” Taylor choked. “I wish it were different. But I cannot abandon my kingdom, no matter how much I love you.”_  
  
_The knight before her was silent, hands balled into fists by her sides._  
  
_“Love?” Taylor queried gently, “Please try to understand.”_  
  
_“Oh I understand.” The blonde woman raised her head, a resigned calm spread across her face. “I understand perfectly.”_  
  
_“Love…”_  
  
_“My sincere apologies Your Highness, but I’m afraid I must ask you to leave,” she said tersely, slipping into the formal tone she and Taylor normally reserved for mocking other nobility. “I have much to prepare if I am to leave tomorrow.”_  
  
_“What?!”_  
  
_“You haven’t heard? The King dispatched a battalion to increase patrols near the border. Revolutionaries there are becoming increasingly violent; several knights have already died there this past week. I was allowed to stay for the tournament, no longer,” she shrugged. “And the only reason I wanted to stay was because of the woman I loved.”_  
  
_“The rebels grow restless,” the knight continued, busy gathering her belongings together. “This is urgent, if we are to prevent a civil war.”_  
  
_Taylor’s blood ran cold. “I didn’t know the situation was that dire.”_  
  
_“I gathered. For someone so dedicated to her people, you seem rather oblivious to the state of the country, Your Highness,” she said bitingly._  
  
_“Love, it’s too dangerous. Surely as champion you can ask my father if you can stay?”_  
  
_“I’ve already outstayed my welcome. If all goes well, I should return in a year’s time. Cara and I leave at dawn.”_  
  
_“A year,” Taylor whispered._  
  
_“Please forgive me, Your Highness, for ever believing I was worthy enough to love you.” The taller woman stepped towards the exit, lifting the tent’s partition with the clear indication for Taylor to leave._  
  
_“I will always choose you,” she finished. “All I hope is that you choose me in return.”_  
  
_Taylor stood frozen, staring at the woman she had loved since childhood, injured by the very man she was soon to marry. She could hear the underlying plea in the knight’s voice; a silent offer to join her, to escape this marriage, to love her freely._  
  
_In another world, Taylor would have fallen to her knees before this woman, begging her to stay. In another world, she would have chosen to run away with her in a heartbeat. In another world, she would have told her parents the truth about who she truly loved._  
  
_In another time, in another life, the pair would have been perfect._  
  
_In this life, Taylor ran back to the castle, never looking back at the woman whose heart she had just broken._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor shuffled into the dining hall of the castle the next day with eyes red from crying. She hadn’t slept, too busy deliberating what she was to say when she told her parents she no longer wished to marry Adam._  
  
_It was only when she sat down that she realised her parents were staring at her intently. Quickly attempting to wipe away her tears, Taylor tried to compose herself._  
  
_“Darling?”_  
  
_“Yes father?” The king leaned forwards, hands folded on the table._  
  
_“I’m afraid we have some bad news,” he said calmly, “Prince Adam has decided against the wedding.”_  
  
_“What?” Taylor’s heart jolted, so much sudden, fierce relief flowing through her she felt dizzy._  
  
_“Prince Adam,” her father said carefully, “has expressed some… hesitance towards the arrangement.”_  
  
_“Oh for god’s sake,” her mother interrupted. “He doesn’t want to marry you because he insists you spend too much time ‘mingling with the dirty folk.’ As if our people are of any less value than him.”_  
  
_“Dear,” her father chastised._  
  
_“Those were his words! She would have found out sooner or later. Honestly I don’t know why you thought he would be a good match for our daughter. He treats his people like slaves, our princess is much more loving than that.”_  
  
_Taylor was still processing her father’s words._  
  
_“I…he…what?”_  
  
_“The wedding is off darling,” the queen said happily._  
  
_“Well,” the king interjected, “Adam’s parents will talk to him, see if they can change his mind.”_  
  
_“The wedding is off,” her mother snapped. “I will not have my daughter married to some imbecile with a superiority complex who fights with no honour.”_  
  
_“I don’t have to marry Adam,” Taylor repeated._  
  
_“No honey. I mean, not unless you want to, but I fail to see why you would-”_  
  
_“I DON’T HAVE TO MARRY ADAM!” Taylor was out of the room before she finished her sentence._  
  
_Racing to the stables, she frantically mounted her horse, ignoring the stablehand’s cries of protest. Still clad in her nightgown, barely protected from the biting morning air, Taylor sped out of the castle gates, following the path trailing south, towards the border._  
  
_It felt like hours, her legs burning and eyes stinging from the wind and cold, before she finally crested a hill and saw two horses in the distance, the unmistakable figures of her knight and their squire._  
  
_Pulling her horse to a stop, Taylor took a deep breath and yelled._  
  
_In her exhausted, overjoyed, panicked state, her mind was in too much of a haze to hear what she screamed. But she knew it was the name of the woman she loved, the woman she would always choose._  
  
_And, hair illuminated by the sun, Taylor’s love turned in her saddle, stared directly at her, and smiled._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor woke the next morning with Dee sprawled across her face, a single question running through her mind.  
  
Why did her girl never have a name? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine medieval knight Karlie with this hair: https://68.media.tumblr.com/4992008351d48cf2ac0136381a4d3e73/tumblr_obeudeSctj1u6yscvo1_400.png
> 
> And this Taylor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8xg3vE8Ie_E


	5. Loose Lips Sink Ships

Taylor was fifteen when she finally came out. Thoughts about green eyes faded to the background during those next years, as she dealt with the sudden, somewhat unsurprising realisation that she liked girls.  
  
Really, really liked girls.  
  
It wasn’t that she couldn’t see the appeal of boys, but the fact that she wasn’t swooning over them made her stand out even more than her tall frame already did, her disinterest in the subject providing her bullies with another flaw with which to torment her.  
  
For a few years, Taylor desperately tried to bend and break herself to fit the mould that other girls seemed to inhabit so naturally. She forced herself to think of boys in that way, almost desperately. Surely something would eventually elicit a feeling, a reaction, anything.  
  
Then one day, Taylor caught herself staring at a girl in class for a beat longer than was probably necessary. And that was the moment she knew. It wasn’t as though everything instantly snapped into focus. It was like wiping a fogged mirror; already knowing what lay underneath, but only seeing herself once it was clean.  
  
Taylor realised she had known for a while. So many things finally made sense.  
  
Her ‘admiration’ for all her favourite characters, who all happened to be female. Her shyness around some of the other girls at school, shyness she simply passed off as a result of her personality, a side-effect of bullying.  
  
Her newfound love of songwriting, and her frustration that the songs she produced with male pronouns just felt wrong.  
  
Taylor’s thoughts inevitably turned to her mystery girl. The fact that these dreams were about another girl never bothered her until now. All she cared about as a kid was how the other girl made her feel; a sensation as natural as curling a finger.  
  
That’s what her realisation felt like. Natural. As she lay in her bed that night, testing the words out in her mind, a wave of understanding slowly seeped into her bones. And for the first time, Taylor felt the most authentic, the most Taylor she had felt in a long time.  
  
Then the fear swept in, the implications of what she was so close to admitting crashing down on her like a deadweight. She couldn’t be gay. She was a big enough target at school as it was.  
  
What would Abigail say? Would she still want to be friends? Would she be scared of her?! The thought that she may view Taylor as predatory, as anything other than her best friend was almost enough to make her cry.  
  
And her mom. God, what would she say? She knew that her mother was not overtly homophobic, but would that change if she found out her daughter was gay?  
  
Taylor’s head was so full that night that she couldn’t sleep, alternating between pacing, and lying in bed staring at the ceiling, Dee purring comfortably on her stomach. One thing became clear. This was too big to keep to herself.  
  
She was still awake when her alarm blared the next morning.  
  
Shuffling back under the bedcovers, Taylor groggily sent a text to Abigail, asking for a sleepover.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
In what would later be dubbed the Great Gay Weekend, Taylor spent the next Saturday night at Abigail’s house, working up the courage to finally admit her discovery to her best friend.  
  
Sitting in the redhead’s bed, barely paying attention to the movie playing in the background, Taylor eventually took a giant swig of her Coke before sighing.  
  
“I think I might be gay.”  
  
Abigail looked at Taylor. Taylor looked at the ground.  
  
“Okay. Great!”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah! I mean, are you sure?”  
  
Taylor shrugged. “Probably.”  
  
Abigail’s experience with dating extended about as far as the various boyband posters that lined her room. And Taylor’s only point of reference were dreams about a woman that didn’t exist.  
  
So the girls did the only thing they could think of. They googled stuff.  
  
After binging as many obscene, heterosexual romance movies as they could find, and an illegally downloaded copy of Lesbian Vampire Killers (which, frankly, was just plain confusing, irrespective of what they were trying to accomplish), Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
  
“Yeah, okay. Not straight. Got it.”  
  
“It does look that way, doesn’t it?” Abigail said.  
  
“You don’t seem surprised Abby,” Taylor said, curious.  
  
“Well…” The redhead trailed off, “considering what you’ve told me about your dream girl, not to mention the way I’ve seen you ogling some of the other girls at school-”  
  
“What?!” Taylor almost screamed.  
  
“Joking!” Abigail said quickly, hands raised reassuringly. “I was joking, Tay.”  
  
“Do you have any idea how scared I am that some girl is going to think I’m a stalker or something just because I’m gay?”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with liking girls Taylor.”  
  
“Yeah, but not everyone believes that! What will everyone at school say if I come out?”  
  
“Their opinion doesn’t matter!”  
  
“It does when they can make my life hell,” Taylor sighed. “Maybe it’s not real? Maybe this is just because I’ve never had any experience dating guys before. This could just be a phase, you know?”  
  
“Do you honestly think this is a just phase?”  
  
“Well it might be,” Taylor mumbled, lying through her teeth.  
  
“Sure,” Abigail said. “Can I ask you something? Who do you see yourself marrying?”  
  
“Abby, we’re fifteen,” Taylor laughed.  
  
“Just,” the redhead waved her hands around. “Humour me.”  
  
With a sigh, Taylor tried to picture herself in a white dress, walking to meet her future husband. The idea of marrying a man, she realised, was horrid. Halfway through the development of that image, the picture dissolved and reformed into a now familiar sight.  
  
“The girl from my dreams,” Taylor said wearily. “It’s always her. Who am I kidding Abby? I’m almost definitely not straight.”  
  
“And that’s okay. I’m still your best friend,” Abigail said, giving her a hug. Taylor let herself lean against the other girl, relieved at least, that she would always have Abigail.  
  
“God, how am I going to tell everyone?”  
  
“You don’t have to. Who you love is your business, not theirs. If you’re super proud and open about who you are, then that’s great. But if you only want to tell a few people, then that’s okay too.”  
  
Taylor smiled softly. “You’re the best, you know that?”  
  
“Yeah, I am pretty great aren’t I? Just promise me that I’ll be your bridesmaid once you find yourself some wife material.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Three months later, Taylor stood before Andrea, her heart pounding in her ears, head light with nerves. All the words she had so meticulously thought out and memorised those past few weeks had seemingly vanished.  
  
As she paced back and forth, still finding the right words, her mom sat patiently on the couch, a knowing smile on her face. Finally, with a deep breath, Taylor faced her mother, hands fidgeting nervously.  
  
“I have something to tell you.”  
  
“Yes honey?”  
  
“I’m pretty sure I’m… I’m a… I don’t think I’m…” With a frustrated huff, Taylor ran her hands through her hair.  
  
“Okay. So you know all those dreams I’ve had? All the things they make me feel, what she makes me feel? I’m fairly certain I’m… not straight.” She finished lamely.  
  
“Right.” Andrea smiled encouragingly.  
  
“I like girls. I like, like girls. And I don’t think it’s a phase, or that it’s because I haven’t found the right guy, or anything like that. I’m not sure if I like boys yet, but I definitely like girls.” Taylor stared at her feet. “And I hope that’s okay.”  
  
“Oh sweetie.” Andrea stood and embraced her daughter. “Of course that’s okay. Thank you for telling me.”  
  
“You’re not going to throw me out are you?” Taylor asked, only half joking. Andrea gripped her shoulders firmly, staring hard into Taylor’s eyes.  
  
“No. I’m not. I love you for who you are, regardless of whether or not you like girls. And I’m so sorry.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“For everything that made it seem like boys were the only option for you. For anything I’ve done that made you feel as though you needed to keep this a secret. For all that.”  
  
Taylor said nothing, simply hugging her mother, dizzy with relief. She didn’t need to tell her how grateful she felt in that moment. Andrea knew. She always knew what her daughter wanted to say, without her having to say anything.  
  
“Now,” Andrea said, hands cradling Taylor’s cheeks. “I believe there’s only one thing left to do.” Leading Taylor to the kitchen, she pulled out her recipe book, opening to a page Taylor had never seen before.  
  
“Bake a rainbow cake.”  
  
“Mom? When did you find this?” Taylor laughed.  
  
“The day after you told me about your dream girl.” Andrea shrugged. “I felt as though I’d need it sooner or later.”  
  
“We’re going to bake a gay cake?”  
  
“A gay cake.”  
  
“A gayke?” Taylor suggested.  
  
“A gayke.” Andrea laughed.  
  
A baking session and one messy kitchen later, Taylor fell asleep with a stomach full of cake and a peaceful smile on her face.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_As another wave crashed against the ship and sent a fresh spray into her face, Taylor smiled. This was her favourite part of sailing; just after departing, when the world unfolded like the first pages of a book, bursting with possibility._  
  
_Moments like these made it worth the extra effort it took to disguise herself as a man._  
  
_“Hey Smith!”_  
  
_Taylor turned at the sound of her alias name ringing across the deck, eyes landing on the ship’s first mate._  
  
_“Wiles,” she acknowledged, slipping easily into the deeper voice she meticulously perfected before joining the crew. Wiles leaned against the rail, wearing a smug expression that immediately set her on edge._  
  
_“Enjoyed our night on land?”_  
  
_“I enjoyed having solid ground under my feet, if that’s what you’re asking.”_  
  
_“Oh I bet you did,” he said, with a lewd grin. “And that’s not all that you enjoyed having under you last night was it?_ ”  
  
_Taylor’s blood ran cold. “What do you want, Wiles?”_  
  
_“Nothing, really. I’m just wondering if I should tell our dear captain that one of our crew spends their time ashore screwing whores.”_  
  
_“I don’t know how you found out about this Wiles, but how I spend my time is none of your business.” Taylor said steadily. “And I see no reason to drag the captain into this. I’m not the only one on board who entertains women when the opportunity arises.”_  
  
_“Oh no, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Craning his neck, he looked at the view Taylor was happily enjoying only moments ago. “You know, I’ve been on the sea since I was a child.”_  
  
_“You still are one,” Taylor thought._  
  
_“I’ve docked at that port more times than I can count,” he continued, “And I couldn’t help but recognise the pretty young thing you seemed to have picked up.”_  
  
_At this, Wiles fully faced Taylor, face a deceptive mask of indifference._  
  
_“I’ve seen her around before. Never shagged her myself, though. Never had a thing for blondes. But it seems you do, don’t you Smith? Seems you have a soft spot for tall blondes. What’s her name again? Katie? Karla?”_  
  
_“Does it matter?” Taylor muttered._  
  
_“Oh but it does. You see it so happens that your little blonde friend has a bit of a reputation. For, ‘working’ shall we say, exclusively with women.”_  
  
_In the blink of an eye, Wiles shot out an arm, hand landing harshly on Taylor’s chest, knocking the air out of her lungs._  
  
_“Which begs the question,” he growled. “Why would she sleep with you?” Taylor froze as she felt his hand trail lower, roughly grazing over the curves of her breasts._  
  
_“I fucking knew it!” Wiles crowed._  
  
_“Wiles, please,” Taylor begged, voice trembling._  
  
_“Hey everyone! We’ve got ourselves a woman on board!” he yelled triumphantly, pushing her to the floor._  
  
_Taylor lay helpless as she heard the crew approaching, lewd comments reaching her ears as some men clapped Wiles on the back._  
  
_“What do we do with her?” someone shouted._  
  
_“Well I don’t know about you,” she heard Wiles say. “But I’m going to teach her a lesson.”_  
  
_The men erupted in noise as Wiles approached, rolling up his sleeves. Taylor shut her eyes, feeling sick as she awaited his touch._  
  
_“Crew!”_  
  
_All eyes turned towards the steps that led below deck. Standing with arms crossed, stood the imposing figure of the captain._  
  
_Wiles may act tough, but even he was wary of their captain. Dominating the sea for nearly two decades, the reputation that preceded his name was enough to make any sailor balk._  
  
_That same sense of foreboding washed across the deck as the captain approached, regarding Taylor with disinterested brown eyes before turning to his first mate._  
  
_“Wiles. I must congratulate you. It seems you’ve broken your previous record.”_  
  
_“My… record, Sir?”_  
  
_“Yes. By my watch, your shortest time before starting a skirmish aboard was six hours after setting out. It seems you’ve beaten that record by a full two hours. It’s truly a testament to your steady character.”_  
  
_Wiles reddened as a ripple of laughter ran through the crowd._  
  
_“Sir, I can explain,” he said. “Smith is a woman!”_  
  
_“I can see that,” the captain said coolly._  
  
_“What do we do with her Captain?” someone shouted._  
  
_With a sigh, the older man turned to address his crew_  
  
_“We turn around, we make port again, and drop off Smith. I’m sure there’s a family somewhere inland that’s missing their daughter.”_  
  
_“And in the meantime?” Wiles asked cruelly, gripping Taylor’s arm and hauling her to her feet._  
  
_“In the meantime,” the captain said sternly. “I will be escorting Smith to my quarters, where she will be staying until we arrive.”_  
  
_Wiles’ face turned stony as he shoved Taylor forwards. As she stumbled, Taylor felt a gentle hand steady her, looking up to see the captain send the other man a dark look._  
  
_“Watch yourself Wiles. She might not be the only one we leave at port,” he said lowly before raising his voice to the crew. “What are you lot waiting for? A written invitation? I want this ship turned around now!”_  
  
_As the crew scrambled around the deck, an overwhelmed Taylor felt a soft grip on her shoulder._  
  
_“Come on,” the captain whispered, voice surprisingly gentle. “Let’s get you out of here.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_As the captain closed the door to his quarters, Taylor shrank back into the corner of the room. The horrible realisation that her life at sea was ending was starting to sink in. Part of her was grateful that the captain took her from the eyes of the crew, but another, bigger part of her resented the man for returning her to the life she wanted so desperately to escape._  
  
_Her eyes tracked the man in question as he locked the door behind him, turning to face her fully._  
  
_And when he spoke, his voice was decidedly more feminine than it had been two minutes ago._  
  
_“Hey, don’t freak out, okay?”_  
  
_Taylor’s eyes widened as the captain unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders._  
  
_Shoulders that led down to lean arms and curves that mirrored Taylor’s own, chest bound tightly by a strip of white cloth._  
  
_And as Taylor’s jaw dropped open in disbelief, her captain reached up and loosened the tight braid that ran down their back, letting brown hair tumble free in waves._  
  
_Moving to a small basin of water, and scrubbing their face and scalp, the brown hue of his hair was slowly lost, some sort of dye washing away to reveal a colour like sunlight. The water grew cloudy as it ran down their face, cleaning off some sort of paint from their skin._  
  
_And finally, hair still damp, the captain turned to face Taylor, reaching up and removing what looked like a curve of glass from each eye._  
  
_Taylor could only stare with her mouth hanging open at the man – no, woman – standing before her, eyes changed from a deep brown to a vibrant green, the painted lines that had once aged her face gone._  
  
_Finally, pulling off the tight wrappings around her chest and tugging on a loose shirt, the captain turned to face Taylor._  
  
_“Smith, first rule of passing as a man, bind your goddamn chest.”_  
  
_Taylor flinched, still reeling from the woman’s transformation. “How long have you known?”_  
  
_“Since the first day.”_  
  
_“Oh.” As astonished as Taylor was, nothing could have prepared her for the laughter that bubbled from the taller woman, even more so when strong arms wrapped her in a hug._  
  
_“Hey, it’s alright. You certainly had the crew fooled. I only noticed because you’re making the same mistakes I did when I began three years ago.”_  
  
_Taylor stepped back as she regarded the captain. Without the dark brown hair and eyes, without the carefully applied powders and paints that aged their face to resemble a middle aged man, the woman standing before her barely looked Taylor’s age._  
  
_“Three years ago?” Taylor echoed. “That can’t be right. All the stories I’ve heard about you said you’ve been at sea for twenty years.”_  
  
_“Well there is such a thing as rumours, you know,” the captain’s eyes glittered with mischief._  
  
_“Wait. You made those stories up?”_  
  
_“Yes I did. Sailors love their gossip chains. It was only the reputation I needed, and telling different stories to the right people soon made it impossible for anyone to trace where I actually came from or when I ran away to sea.”_  
  
_Taylor was quiet for a moment, absorbing everything she had just heard. “You’re not going to actually send me back to my family are you?” she asked worriedly. Something warm fluttered in Taylor’s stomach as the captain laughed, throwing their head back._  
  
_“Don’t worry, I’m not going to send you back. Actually,” the captain cleared her throat, looking almost nervous. “I… well, I could do with a new first mate. If you’re interested.”_  
  
_“Me? What about Wiles? What about the rest of the crew? They know I’m a girl now.”_  
  
_“Wiles can walk the plank for all I care. As for the rest of the crew, they’re going to be the ones we drop off at port, not you.”_  
  
_“You’re going to take on an entirely new crew?” Taylor exclaimed._  
  
_“Not entirely new,” The captain chuckled, gazing fondly at her. “I’ll keep you. If you want.”_  
  
_Taylor thought for a moment. A new crew meant she could continue to live on the sea, with a captain she admired and was beginning to respect immensely. And yet…._  
  
_“Alright, I’ll be your first mate. On one condition.”_  
  
_“Name it,” the captain smiled._  
  
_“Teach me everything you know. I can’t be caught out again like I was today.” she begged._  
  
_The taller woman’s eyes lit up as her face split into a smile._  
  
_“It would be my absolute pleasure.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“By the way,” the captain said, pointing at Taylor with a fork. “You need to start binding your chest.”_  
  
_“Wha-?” Taylor said, mouth full of food._  
  
_The pair were sitting in the captain’s cabin, enjoying a hot meal. Needless to say, some of the crew weren’t too happy about being fired, Wiles among them. It took a few hours to convince everyone to leave, but once they did, the captain insisted on treating Taylor to dinner._  
  
_And within minutes, Taylor stood in the middle of the room, chest bound, the captain looking at her thoughtfully._  
  
_“I don’t know...” Taylor began._  
  
_“Hey, you wanted me to teach you everything!”_  
  
_“Yeah, but I’m not used to hiding my chest like this,” Taylor scratched the wide strip of cloth that now bound her breasts._  
  
_“Hmm.” The captain stepped forward, stilling Taylor’s hand with her own. “Is it too tight for you?” she whispered._  
  
_Taylor’s cheeks reddened at the warm touch against her ribs, a flutter shooting through her stomach._  
  
_“I don’t think so. You do this every day?” she redirected, throat dry._  
  
_“Most days. If I can help it,” the captain whispered, placing her other hand on Taylor’s waist._  
  
_As Taylor raised her head, her breath caught as her eyes met the bright green of the captain’s. Suddenly, it seemed neither woman could look away, both unwilling to break contact with each other. Taylor’s heart raced as the taller woman’s lips softly quirked up, green eyes searching blue._  
  
_“Why are you smiling?” Taylor whispered, almost inaudibly._  
  
_“I…” the captain began. She seemed to shake herself, clearing her throat harshly before pulling away. “Nothing. Let’s… Let’s move on.”_  
  
_“Right,” Taylor muttered, trying to quash the disappointment in her chest._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor looked at herself in the mirror, toying with her long hair._  
  
_Once she and the captain found a new crew, she would be introduced as first mate, under the guise of a man once more and hopefully better concealed._  
  
_But she had to do something first. She wouldn’t, couldn’t be caught again. These men had to believe that she wasn’t a woman._  
  
_Taking a deep breath, Taylor picked up the scissors._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_It was dark by the time she found her way to the captain’s quarters, knocking softly on the door._  
  
_“You wanted to see me Cap?” she asked as she entered._  
  
_“Yes I-” the taller woman stopped as she caught sight of Taylor, her face wiped clean of her usual disguise._  
  
_Standing up from her desk, the captain stopped so close that Taylor could count the freckles on her cheeks. Reaching a tentative hand up, the captain loosened the bandanna that Taylor had used to cover her head._  
  
_“Oh.”_  
  
_Taylor’s long blonde hair was gone, replaced by a sharp cut that ended just below her jawline. The captain’s fingers trailed down Taylor’s face as she examined her work._  
  
_As she gently played with the ends of her hair, Taylor couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting shut, warm fingers brushing against her jaw. The other woman must have noticed, for the light touches gave way to a calloused hand cradling her cheek, thumb brushing stray hair from her face. Taylor opened her eyes to see the captain smiling proudly at her._  
  
_“Why are you smiling?” she asked, her own lips tugging up in a grin._  
  
_“Well, today’s lesson was going to be about styling your hair.” The captain resumed playing with Taylor’s blonde locks. “But I believe you’ve already got that covered.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_They fell into an easy routine. Every night, Taylor would make her way to the captain’s quarters. And every night, she would be greeted by the bright smile of the woman who was fast becoming her closest friend._  
  
_Tonight was no different. As soon she knocked, the door opened and a hand shot out, pulling her inside. She barely had time to look at the captain before she was sat firmly down in a chair. A bewildered Taylor blinked as the other woman joined her, an excited grin on the latter’s face._  
  
_“Okay, why are you smiling?” Taylor asked. The captain threw her head back laughing at the phrase that had now become the pair’s inside joke._  
  
_“Because,” she gestured to the nearby table. “Today we get to the fun part.”_  
  
_“The… fun part?” Taylor glanced over, eyes widening at the rows of small containers and bottles._  
  
_“Hiding your chest and changing your hair is all well and good,” she replied, reaching for the table. “But you can’t rely on those alone. The first thing people will notice is your face. So tonight is going to be about changing it.”_  
  
_Taylor spent the next blissful minutes sitting perfectly still, unabashedly staring at the other woman as she decorated her face with powders and thin paints._  
  
_And when she looked in the mirror after the captain had finished, Taylor barely recognised herself. The face staring back at her appeared harder; brows darkened and face contoured so the light seemed to glance off her jaw instead of her cheekbones, giving her a more masculine appearance._  
  
_“Wow,” she breathed, incredulous. “How did you do that?”_  
  
_“Lots of practice.” The captain handed her a soft cloth and a small bowl of water. “Wash it off. I’ll teach you how to do it yourself.”_  
  
_Suffice to say, Taylor’s first attempt was an unmitigated disaster. But, buoyed on by the captain’s gentle encouragement, she began to improve, if only a little. After her sixth attempt, Taylor roughly scrubbed her face, the cloth growing dark as she cleaned her skin._  
  
_“Hey, hey, gentle,” the captain admonished, grasping Taylor’s hands and pulling them from her face. “Don’t hurt yourself.”_  
  
_Taylor’s heart jumped as she opened her eyes to see the other woman staring at her in concern, a small crease between her eyebrows._  
  
_“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Taylor joked. The taller woman frowned and absently reached a hand up, wiping a stray smudge off Taylor’s lip._  
  
_“No we wouldn’t,” she whispered seriously._  
  
_Once again, the room seemed to fade, the world stilling as the two bare-faced women looked at each other. Taylor swallowed hard as the captain tilted her head, eyes flicking between her eyes and her mouth, fingers continuing to trace the outline of Taylor’s lips._  
  
_Taylor thought about how the world seemed to shrink when she was close to this girl, how it seemed to narrow and fade until it felt as though they were the only ones that existed. The pull, gravitational, that happened whenever she met those eyes._  
  
_Something had always interrupted those moments; one of them would break away, scared by the force of that sensation. With a start, Taylor realised she never wanted that feeling to end again._  
  
_“Fuck it,” Taylor sighed._  
  
_And before the other woman could ask, Taylor’s lips crashed against hers. The captain stumbled back as she felt hands cup her cheeks, thumbs gracing jawline and cheekbones._  
  
_It wasn’t until the pair hit the wall of the room that Taylor stopped to gauge the green-eyed woman’s reaction. Realising what a risk she had taken, her cheeks began to flush red, half regretting what she had done._  
  
_But then a gentle hand on her chest and another on the back of her neck pulled her in for another kiss. And when they separated, the biggest smile Taylor had ever seen graced the taller woman’s features._  
  
_“Why are you smiling?” Taylor whispered, ludicrously happy._  
  
_“Because,” the other woman said, pressing a light kiss to Taylor’s nose. “I have been wanting to do that from day one.”_  
  
_Taylor could only stare at her, mouth agape. Then, to both of their surprise, she started smacking the taller woman’s arm._  
  
_“Then why the hell didn’t you do anything sooner?!” Taylor said between hits. “God I could have kissed you SO many times by now!”_  
  
_“Ouch,” the captain laughed, rubbing her arm. “Well, what if I offer to make up for lost time then?”_  
  
_Taylor’s skin tingled as soft hands tangled in her short hair. Lips eagerly met her own, and she responded with equal enthusiasm. The kiss was messy, a little clumsy, the pair bumping noses and giggling the entire time. Teeth knocked against each other, both girls too full of joy to stop themselves from smiling._  
  
_Suddenly, the back of Taylor’s legs hit the bed, sending both of them sprawling across the sheets. As the taller body landed fully atop Taylor’s their giggles turned to outright laughter. In that moment, they were just two girls finally letting themselves love, and be loved._  
  
_The green-eyed woman crawled up Taylor’s body, kissing every inch of her face, as careful fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt._  
  
_“May I?” she said, between kisses._  
  
_“Please,” Taylor gasped._  
  
_“You know,” the other woman said as she rested her forehead against Taylor’s, “I’ve never been with a woman like this before, much less someone as incredible as you.”_  
  
_Taylor’s hands came up to intertwine with her lover’s as she carefully regarded her. It was only in the room’s soft candlelight, with this much vulnerability that Taylor realised how young this girl was. She might even have been younger than Taylor herself._  
  
_“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” she whispered._  
  
_“I know,” the other woman grinned mischievously. “But I do really want to kiss you.”_  
  
_Soon enough, Taylor’s shirt and bindings were discarded. And she was left lying on her back, revelling in the warm weight of the taller woman, and the sight of her lips quirked in a dorky grin. She was beginning to feel slightly shy until an increasingly familiar pair of lips reconnected with her own._  
  
_“You are so beautiful,” she felt against her mouth, “I’m the luckiest girl on all the seas.”_  
  
_Taylor tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut as her lover traced kisses along her jawline. Warmth was beginning to pool in her stomach when she felt a soft hand at the back of her neck, the taller woman taking advantage of her exposed neck to leave a few marks against the soft skin there. Taylor gasped, hands gripping the bedsheets._  
  
_Taking the time to soothe the now red skin with a quick kiss, the green-eyed woman let her lips trail down Taylor’s body with a reverence that made her arch her back off the bed._  
  
_Quiet, desperate noises left her mouth as the captain’s lips found their way down the dips and curves of Taylor’s torso, tracing the constellation of freckles on her chest._  
  
_Somewhere along the lines, the captain’s own clothes were tossed to the side, leaving Taylor to gape at her lover’s lithe and muscular frame. The warmth in her gut now flickered into a fire that burned brighter and drifted lower with each press of lips to her body. Sparks ran up and down her limbs, igniting a new heat that she hungrily welcomed._  
  
_Her lover now rested comfortably between Taylor’s legs, hands stroking her sides as she pressed almost ticklish kisses against her stomach. Soon enough, fingers found their way into the loops of Taylor’s pants._  
  
_“Can I-” she began._  
  
_“Yes,” Taylor almost begged. “Please, yes.”_  
  
_The captain flashed her a bright smile before removing the offending article of clothing, kneeling up as she did so._  
  
_And before she could comprehend what was happening, the other woman hooked Taylor’s leg over her own tanned shoulder, turning her head to the side and skimming her lips along the inside of Taylor’s thigh._  
  
_Now she felt like she was going to explode, heart was pounding as her lover teased a line of kisses up her thigh._  
  
_Until finally, Taylor started seeing stars as…_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Her alarm went off.  
  
Taylor bolted upright, head whipping to the side as she furiously glared at her clock.  
  
Andrea woke up that morning to the sound of her fifteen year old daughter repeatedly hurling her alarm clock against the wall, Dee staring frightfully from the corner.  
  
“Taylor!” she said in shock. “What happened?”  
  
The blonde let out a frustrated huff, letting the probably broken clock fall to the floor with a metallic thud. Giving it one last kick for good measure, she finally met her mother’s eyes.  
  
“GOD Mom, I am SO gay!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TAYLOR WON HER TRIAL TS6 IS COMING AND I AM FREAKING OUT 
> 
> Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I hope the wait was kinda worth it :)


	6. Island Breeze and Lights Down Low

Taylor was still fifteen when she met Dianna.  
  
That day, Taylor had retreated to the music room, like she usually did when Abigail was away sick. At least there she could be alone on her own terms, just her and her music, away from unwanted stares and insults.  
  
Except that day, someone walked in. Someone who looked so much like the girl from her dreams that Taylor froze, hands hovering above the piano.  
  
“Hey, that was beautiful, whatever you were playing.”  
  
“Th-thank you,” Taylor stuttered, clearing her throat. “It’s not quite finished yet.”  
  
“You wrote that?”  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“That’s sick,” the other girl said with a low whistle. “I can carry a tune alright, but songwriting? That takes skill. You must be pretty talented.”  
  
Taylor leaned back, looking at the girl in bewilderment.  
  
“Thank you,” she said. “My name’s Taylor, by the way, in case you wanted to know. I mean, you might have asked eventually, or not, I don’t know, but yeah. My name’s Taylor.”  
  
Taylor mentally face-palmed herself, but the other girl laughed, joining her at the piano.  
  
“I’m Dianna. I’m in my senior year. Hey, do you think you could play that again? I’d love to hear it from the beginning.”  
  
Taylor’s brain just about short-circuited. “You want to hear my song?”  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
“Okay…” Taylor said slowly. “Weird question, but did anyone send you in here?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Well it’s just,” Taylor took a deep breath. “No one comes in here at lunch except me, so I don’t see why you would be here and I’m suddenly really paranoid someone sent you to make fun of me as usual and you’re probably going to laugh now.”  
  
But instead of laughing, Dianna grabbed Taylor’s hand.  
  
“Why would anyone do that?” she asked, question genuine in her eyes. “That’s cruel, bullying you for something you love. I’m sorry.”  
  
Something melted in Taylor’s heart, a shot of warmth spreading through her chest.  
  
“It’s alright. So, do you still want to hear it?”  
  
Dianna nodded, smiling. And honestly, with a smile like that, did Taylor really have a choice?  
  
“Alright. It’s kinda rough, but-” Taylor began to play. She hadn’t told anyone yet, but she had been planning a demo tape of her songs to send out to any record company she could find. This song was going to be one of them.  
  
No one, not even Abigail had heard it before, and yet here she was, playing it for a complete stranger. When she was finished, Dianna clapped, eyeing her curiously.  
  
“Your song uses female pronouns.” she said, a slight question in her words.  
  
“Umm, yeah.” Taylor cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I like girls.”  
  
“Great! I do too.”  
  
Taylor’s eyes widened. But before she could reply, she was cut off by the piercing of the school bell.  
  
“I’d better head to class,” Dianna said, standing. “Thank you Taylor. I loved the song.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Taylor said, still overwhelmed. “I guess I’ll see you around?”  
  
“Oh, I’ll make sure of it.” Dianna winked, sauntering out the door.  
  
Gaping after the older girl, Taylor suddenly noticed of how tightly she was gripping the piano stool, how fast her heart was racing. Raising her hands, she examined how much they were inexplicably shaking. She stared out the doorway after Dianna.  
  
“Oh fuck.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Dianna terrified her. Not because she may be the girl from her dreams, but because she was someone who had already figured out who she was, what she wanted, and was completely unapologetic about it.  
  
And for reasons that forever remained unknown to Taylor, Dianna decided that she wanted her. Days turned into weeks, and Dianna continued visiting the music room. Weeks turned to months, and the pair started seeing each other outside of school.  
  
Until one day, the pair were sitting in Dianna’s car, coming home from the cinema together. Nervously picking at the hem of her dress, Taylor forced herself to speak.  
  
“Dianna? Um, is this a date?”  
  
Dianna stared at her, eyes gleaming. “Not yet.”  
  
Leaning over in her seat, Dianna pulled Taylor in for her first kiss.  
  
“Now it is,” she whispered against her lips.  
  
Taylor had never felt more fearless.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Hey, those bullies you mentioned? Have they bothered you recently?”  
  
“Not really,” Taylor said. “Not since you showed up.”  
  
“Good. If they ever come near you again, let me know. I’ll fuck them up.”  
  
Taylor giggled, kissing her girlfriend. “Thanks babe.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Why do you hang out with that redhead so much?”  
  
“Who Abigail? You know why. She’s my best friend.”  
  
“Mmm. Are you sure you’re only friends? You spend a lot of time together.”  
  
“What? Babe no! Abigail and I are just friends. Always have been always will be. And she’s got a new boyfriend anyway.”  
  
“Fine. Do me a favour? Make sure she’s not around when we’re together. I don’t like sharing you.”  
  
“Oh. Okay…”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“You’re really going to order dessert?”  
  
“Why? What’s wrong with dessert?” Taylor laughed, glancing through the menu.  
  
“Nothing,” Dianna laughed lightly. “I’m just stuffed already, and you’ve eaten so much more than me.”  
  
“Yeah, I was hungry. My body needs food.”  
  
“Mmm.”  
  
“What is it? You only make that sound if something’s bothering you.”  
  
“I’m just wondering if dessert is good for you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“All that sugar and fat? It’s got to go someplace, doesn’t it?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“Eat what you want though! I just know that I wouldn’t feel very beautiful if I ate that.”  
  
Taylor was still silent when the waitress came around to clear their plates.  
  
“Can I get you any dessert tonight ladies?” she asked politely.  
  
“No thanks,” Taylor mumbled. “I’ve had enough.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”  
  
“Thanks babe,” Taylor’s eyes fluttered shut as her girlfriend (God, she’d never tire of saying that) traced her jawline.  
  
“Hey we should totally straighten your hair!”  
  
“Wait why? I like my curly hair!”  
  
“Yeah yeah, so do I. But it’d be cool to try.”  
  
Taylor had always been okay with her looks. Sure, she had certain parts of her body that she didn’t particularly like, but overall, she had always felt pretty. She had her mother to thank for that, she supposed.  
  
“Actually, I don’t think I want to.”  
  
“Oh, come on! Don’t be boring!”  
  
“You think I’m boring?”  
  
“Of course not! But trying something new would be exciting, don’t you think?”  
  
“I guess so?”  
  
“That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s go try. You’ll look beautiful.”  
  
“O-okay.”  
  
“While we’re at it, I’ll teach you how to put on better makeup. I want everyone to see how beautiful my girlfriend is.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Hi, babe,” Taylor greeted. The older girl didn’t say a word, grabbing Taylor’s hand and pulling her to her room. Taylor jumped as Dianna slammed the door behind them.  
  
“Why didn’t you call me? I texted you eight times.”  
  
“I’m sorry. My phone was off for the movie.”  
  
“Well, did you hear it vibrate?”  
  
“It was in my bag,” Taylor said patiently. “And anyway I wanted to spend time with Abigail. She’s already so busy with her boyfriend and-”  
  
“Oh so that’s it. You’re just too busy with the redhead. Meanwhile I’m over here, worried about where you are because I haven’t heard from you all day…”  
  
“I’m sorry, but I did tell you I was spending the day with Abigail.”  
  
“It’s your phone, Taylor! When do you not look at your phone?!”  
  
“Dianna, I had it in my bag! You’re not listening to me!”  
  
“I love you! You should answer me when I call you! Are you so dumb you can’t even pick up your goddamn phone?!” Dianna slammed her hands down on her desk, so sudden and loud Taylor felt her bones jar.  
  
The pair were silent, save for Dianna’s heavy breathing.  
  
“Dianna…”  
  
“Forget it. Just leave. Leave!”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Dianna called that night, Taylor was too scared to let it go to voicemail.  
  
“I’m sorry Taylor. I’m so sorry. I was just worried about you.”  
  
“You really scared me Dianna.”  
  
“I know, and I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. Give me another chance?”  
  
“…Okay. One more chance. This can’t happen again.”  
  
“Thank you,” Taylor heard her girlfriend breathe a sigh of relief. “I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just answer your phone.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Dianna broke up with Taylor the day before her sixteenth birthday. Over the phone.  
  
“I’ll be graduating before long. I thought I’d do this sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Rather than later…” Taylor echoed, words catching in her throat. “Dianna how long have planned on doing this?”  
  
“Oh, you know. A while.”  
  
“Tell me how long, Dianna. You owe me that much.”  
  
“Oh come on Taylor, you didn’t think we would last forever did you?”  
  
“Was that all I was to you? Just a toy to get you through senior year?”  
  
“Stop it. You’re being overdramatic.”  
  
“No I’m not! You’re the one breaking up with me!” Taylor heard Dianna sigh.  
  
“Bye Taylor. For what it’s worth, I had fun together.”  
  
“That doesn’t count for shit. Goodbye Dianna.”  
  
Taylor hung up, flopping back in bed. In her heart, she knew Dianna was never going to be in her life for long. She had been lying to herself really, ignoring all the red flags for once in her life. She just wanted to enjoy having a girlfriend. And she never saw it ending like this.  
  
That night, lying in bed, still clutching her phone, that night was the first time Taylor cried herself to sleep.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor took a deep breath, savouring the ocean breeze one last time. At this height, no one would see her. Just how she wanted it._  
  
_Curling her feet around the cliff’s edge, she focused her gaze on the ocean, far below, pulling her coat around her shoulders._  
  
_Then she jumped._  
  
_As the air whipped past her, she curved her body into a dive, hitting the ocean with a silent splash. The water folded around her, and Taylor’s coat fused to her skin, arms and legs shifting into flippers. Within seconds, Taylor had transformed into a pure white seal._  
  
_Selkies. That’s what humans called her kind. Creatures who could turn from human to seal with the power of their Selkie coats; who rose from the sea to seduce unsuspecting sailors. Well, the first part was true enough. Her herd rarely interacted with the human world._  
  
_Taylor herself wasn’t particularly interested in humans. What she did love were the cliffs and beaches that bordered their little village. She would often climb the sand dunes when she was younger, laughter ringing across the bay as she slid down the slopes._  
  
_Being a seal was all well and good, but gravity had little effect underwater, and you had to do so much of your movement yourself._  
  
_But as she grew older, Taylor quickly outgrew the dunes, and sought out the cliffs further around the cove. She must have jumped off that cliff hundreds of times now. And this jump was no different._  
  
_Only this time, as she was swimming home, something snagged on Taylor’s hind flipper._  
  
_She panicked, twisting herself, desperately trying to see what was hurting her. But the more she wiggled, the more the pain in her tail seemed to tighten, digging into her skin._  
  
_Moving would only make matters worse. Now Taylor’s only thought was to make her way to land. She would be able to untangle herself once she was human. Trusting her instincts, she turned herself towards the beach._  
  
_But she was fast running out of air, and her fight to get free had left her exhausted. She saw the waves breaking overhead, felt them pushing her towards fresh air. But her lungs were burning, the pain growing steadily worse as she swam. And she was so tired._  
  
_Black spots clouded her vision, water started filling her lungs. She couldn’t even cry for help. Feeling herself sinking further back into the water, Taylor’s world went dark._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor gasped awake, frantically clutching her chest as she sat up. Taking in as much air she could, she noticed three things._  
  
_One, she could sit up, so she was human._  
  
_Two, she was inside. Taylor had never been inside a building in her life._  
  
_Looking around, she noticed the third thing, which was that she was sitting on a really soft surface. Curiously poking the material, Taylor frowned. This was a weird place to live in. If someone did live here._  
  
_Her head snapped up as the door opened, a human stepping through._  
  
_“Hi,” she said cheerily, seeing Taylor awake._  
  
_Taylor screamed._  
  
_Scrambling away from the human, she tried to run, only for a sharp pain to send her crashing to the ground._  
  
_Snapping her head towards the source of her pain, she saw a bandage had been wrapped around her foot, mottled with flecks of blood. In a panic, she began furiously scratching at whatever bound her leg._  
  
_“Hey! Stop doing that!” The human tried to grab hold of Taylor’s hands._  
  
_Startled by the sudden approach, Taylor curled up in a ball, arms covering her head._  
  
_“Hey,” she heard. “I won’t hurt you. It’s okay.”_  
  
_Years of observing the humans meant Taylor had a fairly good grasp on their language. But she had never remained in her human form long enough to try speaking properly. Wearily she looked at the stranger._  
  
_“Hello,” she said, warmly. Taylor flicked her wrist in a small greeting. “Do you want to get back in bed?” Taylor tilted her head at the unfamiliar word._  
  
_“Bed? Uh, this thing,” the human poked the surface where she woke up. Taylor nodded. It may be weird, but it was much more comfortable than the cold ground. Gently, the human helped her up looking with concern at Taylor’s mangled foot._  
  
_“You really did a number on that didn’t you? I’ll probably need to change those.”_  
  
_The human gently unwrapped the bandages, and Taylor’s eyes widened. Her foot was torn to shreds, red ribbons lacing themselves up to her calf._  
  
_“Not a pretty sight is it? It took me ages to remove the hook, especially with all that wire.” The human retrieved a fishing hook from the side table, its sharp point glinting in the light._  
  
_“So that’s what it was,” Taylor thought, feeling the ghost of pain in her foot._  
  
_“I found you passed out on the shore this morning. No one lives around this stretch of beach except me for a few miles. Where on earth did you come from?”_  
  
_Taylor pointed towards the window, the ocean glimmering in the distance. It was so close. But transforming while injured was a messy, painful ordeal. Besides, she could never transform without her-_  
  
_Suddenly alert, Taylor’s head frantically whipped around, trying to find her coat._  
  
_“Oh, is this what you’re looking for?” The woman pulled out Taylor’s white coat. “I hope you don’t mind, but I gave you some of my clothes. You weren’t wearing anything else.”_  
  
_Snatching back her coat, Taylor noticed that she was wearing human clothing. Pulling the fabric away from her chest, she gave it a sniff. Weird. Nice, but weird._  
  
_“So, you said your home was out by the ocean?” The woman said. “Maybe when you’re better, I’ll take you to the beach. You can show me exactly where you live. Until then, you’re more than welcome to stay here. Alright?”_  
  
_Taylor nodded, resigning herself to this human’s weird excuse of a home until she had healed._  
  
_“You don’t talk very much do you?”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_That night, Taylor found her way to the human’s room. It was late, and she was beyond exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. Not in this strange place, not without the comforting warmth she always felt when the herd slept in one big group._  
  
_Hopping through the house, Taylor found the human curled in her own bed, fast asleep. Not wanting to startle her, she quietly tapped on the open door._  
  
_“Mmh?” The human groggily sat up, becoming more alert when she spotted Taylor._  
  
_“Hey, couldn’t sleep? Alright well… wait what are you doing?”_  
  
_Taylor was climbing into bed with the human, bringing her Selkie coat in with her. The human tensed, but Taylor ignored her silent protests and cuddled closer. Eventually, the other woman relented, pulling the blankets close around the pair of them._  
  
_“By the way, I never asked your name. Mine’s-” Taylor frowned at the unrecognisable word that followed. “What’s yours?”_  
  
_Taylor shook her head. She didn’t really have a name. She and the herd all knew each other by sight and by scent. That was enough for them._  
  
_“You don’t have a name? I’m sorry. That must feel strange.”_  
  
_The pair lapsed into silence, and Taylor stared in wonder at the other woman. Moonlight fluted through the windows of the room, frosting both girls in a layer of white. Almost absentmindedly, Taylor brought her fingers up to lightly trace the other woman’s face, features made sharp in the new light._  
  
_“Wow,” the human suddenly whispered. “Your eyes are really blue.”_  
  
_Bashful, Taylor wiggled closer, the combined warmth from the human and the softness of the bedsheets sending her into that fuzzy, happy state of almost-sleep._  
  
_But before she drifted off, she felt a hand gently carding through her hair._  
  
_“Sleep tight Blue Eyes.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_On the third night of Taylor’s stay, she happily flopped into bed, waiting for the human to join her as usual._  
  
_Only that night, Taylor watched as the human put on a new set of clothes; fabric that washed around her ankles like waves against rocks, revealing much more of her golden skin than usual._  
  
_She looked beautiful. But as the human sat at the end of the bed, Taylor swore she saw water in her eyes._  
  
_“Hey Blue Eyes,” she whispered. “I have to go somewhere. You’ll be sleeping alone tonight okay?”_  
  
_Taylor sat up in alarm, eyes wide._  
  
_“Don’t worry! It’s only for a night. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” Reaching over, the human squeezed Taylor’s hands, as if begging her to understand._  
  
_Taylor didn’t want to, but she let her human leave, watching from the window until she disappeared from of view._  
  
_She didn’t sleep well that night._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_She sat up when her human came back, startling slightly at the sight of Taylor awake in bed._  
  
_“Blue Eyes, what-” the human was cut off as Taylor careened into her arms, crushing her in an enormous welcome-home hug._  
  
_The human sucked in a sharp gulp of air, and Taylor instantly backed away, worried she had somehow hurt her._  
  
_And then she saw the bruises. Trailing down her neck, red marks disappearing under her now rumpled clothes. Taylor could only imagine what lay beneath the dress._  
  
_“It’s okay Blue Eyes. Really it’s…” her human’s voice cracked so much that she stopped speaking._  
  
_Not knowing what else to do, Taylor simply hugged her, holding her as she trembled, but never cried._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_The second time Taylor’s human left for the night, Taylor didn’t sleep at all. Wrapping her coat around herself, she hobbled to the front door, sliding down the wall opposite the entrance to wait._  
  
_She was still there when her human returned, new bruises painting her eye and cheek._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_The third night her human left, a week into her stay, Taylor followed, silently trailing her over the dunes._  
  
_Eventually she crested a hill and a house came into view, sinister in the darkness as her human entered. Taylor would have followed her inside, but the pain in her still-healing foot sent her stumbling back down the hill._  
  
_But that didn’t stop her from watching the house all night. And when her human finally emerged, blood was smeared across her mouth, a fresh cut bisecting her lips._  
  
_Taylor had never felt more helpless._  
\-------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor sighed, tugging her coat further around her shoulders._  
  
_It had been two weeks since the human rescued her. Her foot had healed enough for the pair to make the short journey to the beach._  
  
_Taylor was still too hurt to transform back into a seal, but she hoped to see her family, at least to assure them she was alright._  
  
_But the pair had been searching the beach for hours, without much luck. After checking her family’s usual hideouts, Taylor grew more despondent. What if they weren’t even looking for her? What if they had all spontaneously disappeared while she had been gone?_  
  
_Slumping down on the water’s edge, Taylor started to cry, all her pent up worry and fear spilling out of her eyes. She just didn’t belong here. As much as she was beginning to adore this human, this wasn’t her home._  
  
_“Oh no, don’t cry,” the human sat down, curling an arm around her shoulders. “Listen, I don’t care how long it takes to find your family. You stay with me for as long as you want. Okay?”_  
  
_Taylor sniffled, but managed a weak smile in return._  
  
_“Good. In the meantime,” the human rolled onto her back closing her eyes peacefully. “Let’s just nap. I’m tired.”_  
  
_Mirroring her actions, Taylor lay on her back, letting the waves gently rock her legs, arms stretched out in the sand._  
  
_“You’re lucky it’s a warm day Blue Eyes,” the human murmured. “The sunshine is nice.”_  
  
_“Sun- sunshine?” Taylor asked. The other woman looked at her in surprise._  
  
_“Yeah. Sunshine. This stuff.” The human took Taylor’s hands, holding them open in the warm light. “It’s warm, helps things grow, and it feels nice.”_  
  
_“Sunshine,” Taylor echoed excitedly, pointing at the human, laughing as she blushed._  
  
_“What do you mean?”_  
  
_“Sunshine,” Taylor repeated. “Warm, feels nice.” The human’s eyes softened._  
  
_“Thank you Blue Eyes.” Reaching over, her Sunshine gently interlaced their hands. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you carry that coat with you all the time?”_  
  
_Taylor stiffened, automatically clutching her coat closer. Her mother warned her about this. Growing up, tales of Selkies who had their coats stolen by selfish humans were her bedtime stories. But she could trust this human, she was sure. And she’d have to tell her eventually._  
  
_“I-” she began._  
  
_“Well isn’t this just the sweetest thing.”_  
  
_Their heads snapped up at the new voice. A new human was strutting towards them, one that Taylor instantly trusted less than her Sunshine._  
  
_“Oh no…” the other woman muttered, standing and pulling Taylor up with her. “What are you doing here Josh?”_  
  
_“Do I need an excuse to see my girl?” Josh replied with a cocky smile._  
  
_Her Sunshine pressed her lips into a thin line, voice seeming to disappear in the presence of this man. Dread wormed through Taylor’s stomach as his eyes landed on her._  
  
_“And who’s this?”_  
  
_“No one,” her human hastily replied. “She’s with me. Well, she’s living with me. For now. It’s temporary, I swear.” Her Sunshine attempted to pull Taylor behind her, out of view._  
  
_“Temporary huh?” The man said, sidestepping her to stop inches away from Taylor’s face. Unwilling to back down, she stared steadily back._  
  
_“I certainly hope it’s temporary,” Josh continued. “Temptations may cause you to repeat your old patterns of behaviour, remember?”_  
  
_“Yes, I do,” her human said meekly._  
  
_“Good girl.” Josh reached up and grasped Taylor’s chin, examining her. “I’d hate for this pretty little thing to undo all our good work. Your conduct has been exceptional these past few weeks.”_  
  
_By then, Taylor had already decided she didn’t like this human. And she sure as hell didn’t want him touching her like this._  
  
_Jerking her face out of his grip, she snapped her teeth at his fingers, smiling as he flinched away, nervously laughing._  
  
_“Listen babe,” he said turning to her Sunshine. “I’d seriously get a muzzle for your little bitch here. God knows she-”_  
  
_Josh was cut off as Taylor’s Sunshine landed a punch directly to his face. Taylor blinked in surprise as the other woman stood protectively in front of her, fists clenched by her sides._  
  
_“The FUCK?!” Josh shouted, blood streaming from his nose._  
  
_“Please don’t touch her,” her Sunshine said, voice betraying her fear. Hating to hear her human sound so small, Taylor gently took her hand in hers._  
  
_“Oh, I see.” Josh glared at their joined hands. “I see what’s going on. You think you can lie to me while you go running off with yet another girl?!”_  
  
_“No!” her human cried, shaking her hand free of Taylor’s. “No it’s not like that!”_  
  
_“You’re going to pay for this,” Josh said, ignoring her. “You’re going to fucking pay for this!” Turning tail, the new human disappeared over the dunes._  
  
_Taylor let out a low growl after his retreating form. Hearing her human sigh, she turned to see her human tensed up, all clenched fists and furrowed eyebrows. By now, Taylor knew this was her way of stopping herself from crying._  
  
_“Come on Blue Eyes. I think I’ve had enough of the beach for one day.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_That night, when Taylor crawled expectantly into bed, her human didn’t join her._  
  
_“Blue Eyes,” she said gently. “I think it would be better if I slept in the other room tonight.”_  
  
_Taylor’s eyes widened in surprise. “But-” she began._  
  
_“Please,” her human whispered, staring at the ground._  
  
_Taylor hesitated. After the events of that day, she was loathe to leave the other woman alone. But as she looked at her Sunshine’s tired eyes, she relented. The other woman smiled in thanks._  
  
_“I’ll see you tomorrow Blue Eyes.”_  
  
_“Goodnight,” Taylor whispered, eyes following her Sunshine out of the room._  
  
_One night apart wouldn’t kill them._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_A scream ripped through the house._  
  
_Taylor shot out of bed. Tearing through the house, heartbeat loud in her ears, she burst open the door to the main bedroom._  
  
_Josh was on top of her human, knee pressed hard against her chest, hands wrapped around her throat. Her Sunshine was clawing at her neck, mouth gasping for air, eyes stuttering shut._  
  
_Something snapped in Taylor. Anger flooded her veins, fast and hot._  
  
_Letting out an animalistic shriek, she attacked. Leaping onto his back, she sank her teeth into the junction of Josh’s neck and shoulder._  
  
_Josh began screaming, immediately releasing his hold on Taylor’s human. Fuelled on adrenaline, she flung him from the bed, landing protectively in front of her Sunshine. Not giving him time to recover, Taylor pounced, sending them both tumbling out of the room._  
  
_Josh scrambled away as fast as he could, screaming, unable to see his attacker in the dark. Taylor gave chase, intermittently tackling him and attacking; biting, hitting, scratching. Human fingernails, Taylor decided, were not to be underestimated._  
  
_With one final kick, Taylor sent him flying out the door, running away into the darkness. Sending a last roar in his direction, she slammed the door, barricading it with as much furniture as she could. Quickly stopping to retrieve her coat, she rushed to her human._  
  
_Her Sunshine was lying frighteningly still, red marks marring her neck. But she seemed unhurt. Taylor had arrived in time._  
  
_She crawled into bed, draping her coat over the pair of them before settling into their usual position, arms locked tight around the taller woman. Feeling the now familiar shape of Taylor’s body, her Sunshine turned on her side, letting herself be spooned._  
  
_Taylor pressed her lips against the base of her human’s neck, a silent reassurance as she felt a tremor run through the other woman._  
  
_“My family kicked me out when I was fifteen,” her human suddenly blurted into the darkness. “I told them I wanted to marry a girl when I was older.” Taylor felt her Sunshine inhale sharply. Something had burst inside her, words tumbling out like a stream._  
  
_“I just started walking. I had nowhere to go. But I always wanted to live by the sea, so I settled in the town here. And I met another girl like me. Toni. She... I loved her. But we were young. And reckless. Josh found us on the beach one night. Together.”_  
  
_She turned in the circle of Taylor’s arms, burying her face in her chest. “I never saw Toni again. To this day, I can’t help but think Josh had something to do with that. She wouldn’t leave me without saying anything. She wasn’t like that.”_  
  
_“Josh let me live here. This house technically belongs to him. He told me he’d keep my secret, so long as he could… so long as I let him… he said he wanted to fix me.”_  
  
_She finally looked up, eyes red and rimmed with tears. “That’s where I’ve been going at night Blue Eyes. Whenever he thinks I need a… lesson. He always says he just wants to fix me, but it’s been going on for so long now and I’m so scared all the time and I’m...”_  
  
_Her Sunshine rested a hand on her stomach, eyes glazing over._  
  
_“I’m pregnant.”_  
  
_With that, Taylor’s human finally cried. After so many days and nights, she finally cried. And Taylor let her, kissing every inch of her face she could reach, one hand stroking her hair, the other linked with hers, resting gently against her stomach._  
  
_She had never felt anger like this. Had never felt it with such acuity that it clouded her vision and burned her throat. But she was able to smother it. Her human was more important._  
  
_Taylor didn’t sleep that night. She simply held on tight to the crying girl in her arms. And that was the moment she knew, this human was the bravest creature she had ever met._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_It was dawn when Taylor marched to Josh’s home, letting the anger she had been holding back flood her system with every step. Striding right up to the house, steeling herself, Taylor kicked the door in._  
  
_Josh was in the kitchen, brandishing a knife at the sound of an intruder. Taylor smiled at the remnants of her handiwork on the man’s face. Scratches and bruises everywhere, the imprint of her teeth exposed on his shoulder._  
  
_“You?” he said as Taylor stood in the doorway. “The fuck are you doing here?! Do you have any idea what you did to me?!”_  
  
_“Yes,” Taylor said casually walking into the kitchen. “Should have done more.”_  
  
_“You stay right there,” Josh pointed the knife at Taylor. “Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”_  
  
_“I want you to leave,” Taylor said, lowly. “Never come back. Never touch her again.”_  
  
_Josh scoffed. “How about this? I continue to work on her, and you leave me to conduct my business.”_  
  
_“Or else?” Taylor asked._  
  
_“Or else,” Josh raised his knife, “I make sure you wind up exactly like her other bitch.”_  
  
_Josh lunged forwards, knife barely missing her. Just as she thought, he felt safer when he was armed and she was not._  
  
_Taylor turned and ran. Occasionally dodging his attacks, she led him around the expanse of the cove, baiting him up the cliffs she had jumped from all those weeks ago._  
  
_Only this time, Taylor chose a sheer drop footed with jagged rocks spiking up from the ocean. Jumping off this one would be dangerous, but her plan was to send Josh off the cliff with her._  
  
_She was so close. Just a few more steps…_  
  
_But breathless from the run, her foot throbbing in pain, Taylor tripped, just feet away from the cliff’s edge. Seeing his chance, Josh pinned her down, knife pressed against her throat._  
  
_“Stop!”_  
  
_Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, recognising the voice instantly._  
  
_“Well look who decided to show up.” Josh mocked._  
  
_“Josh please,” her human gasped, stumbling up the cliff. “Don’t hurt her. She didn’t do anything.”_  
  
_“She tried to kill me!”_  
  
_“Because of me! Because I asked her to!”_  
  
_“NO!” Taylor screamed._  
  
_“Shut up,” Josh spat in her face, directing his attention to the other woman. “You’re telling me that this maniac bitch is trying to murder me because of you?!”_  
  
_“Yes,” Taylor’s Sunshine said, head held high._  
  
_“Fucking hell,” Josh muttered. “I hope you realise I’m going to have to punish you very badly for this.”_  
  
_“I know,” the other woman said, voice wavering. “But,” she steeled herself, “You have to let her go. Do whatever you want with me, just don’t hurt her.”_  
  
_“No,” Taylor thought, tears leaking out of her eyes. “Please, no. He’ll kill her.”_  
  
_Josh actually seemed to consider his decision, the pressure against Taylor’s throat lessening ever so slightly._  
  
_“Alright,” he said. In one swift move, he hurled Taylor up, twisting her arms behind her back. “But I’m not letting go of this one. Come and get her.”_  
  
_Her Sunshine slowly approached, until she was within reach of her. Taylor’s world seemed to tilt, everything moving in slow motion. Josh slowly took one hand away from her neck._  
  
_Then before Taylor could do anything, he grabbed her human and sent her falling off the cliff._  
  
_Taylor screamed._  
  
_Slamming her head back, she heard a sickening crack as Josh’s nose broke. He stumbled, and Taylor used the momentum to send them both falling after her human._  
  
_In a single practiced movement, Taylor wrapped her coat around herself, turning into a seal the instant she made contact with the ocean spray. A sharp pain laced through her back as she scraped the sharp rocks, tumbling into the sea._  
  
_Entering the water, she immediately started scouting for her human, until the scent of blood reached her nose. And it wasn’t hers. Panicking, she followed the trail, praying that it didn’t lead to her Sunshine._  
  
_She froze when the trail ended. The stream of blood was coming from Josh. His eyes were wide open in shock, gaping at the jagged shard of rock embedded in his chest._  
  
_Even though she had planned this, Taylor’s stomach clenched at the grisly sight. Despite everything this man had done, part of her still wanted to help him. But as she looked closer, she saw Josh’s gaze was empty. He was already dead._  
  
_Sparing one last look at him, Taylor resumed her search. A streak of blonde flashed in her peripheral, and she turned to see her Sunshine drifting through the water, eyes closed._  
  
_Trying to ignore the pain in her back, Taylor gently took her human’s arm in her mouth, draping her body across her own as she frantically swam towards land._  
  
_Finally breaking the surface, she hurled both of them up onto the beach. With a cry of pain, Taylor shed her coat and turned back into a human, blood dripping from her back. Turning her Sunshine over, Taylor held her face in her hands, desperately trying to wake her._  
  
_“Please,” she whispered, repeating it like a mantra, a prayer._  
  
_Then her human coughed, turning to heave up a lungful of water onto the sand, spluttering and gasping. It was the most beautiful sound Taylor had ever heard._  
  
_She began to cry, relieved beyond words, beyond thought. Collapsing, she wrapped her arms around the taller woman, oblivious to everything except her stuttered breathing and strong heartbeat._  
  
_Breathing in huge gulps of air, her Sunshine flopped back on the sand. Catching sight of Taylor, she smiled, exhausted._  
  
_“Hello Blue Eyes.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor stood on the beach, coat already around her shoulders, staring out at the ocean._  
  
_The wound on her back had taken much longer to heal than her foot. But that had given her time to explain everything to her human; where she came from, what she was, how she ended up on the beach that fateful day._  
  
_News of Josh’s death had quickly spread through the town, but it was decided that Taylor’s human was the rightful owner of his second house, and both girls were allowed to stay there._  
  
_Taylor’s recovery process was steady and without incident. Her Sunshine saw to that. Which meant that all too soon, it was time to say goodbye._  
  
_Hearing footsteps crunching in the sand, Taylor turned to meet the watery eyes of her human._  
  
_“Do you have to go?”_  
  
_Taylor nodded, still trying to reconcile her decision to leave. Living on the land was wonderful, but it didn’t take away from the fact that at heart, she was a Selkie._  
  
_“Will I ever see you again?” Her human looked down at her feet, hands resting on her now swollen stomach._  
  
_Taylor turned sharply, closing the space between them in two short steps._  
  
_“Yes,” she said firmly, cradling her Sunshine’s face. “You will. I am not leaving forever.”_  
  
_“But that’s where you belong,” her human gestured to the ocean. “That’s your home.”_  
  
_Taylor shook her head, pointing to the ocean._  
  
_“Family,” she said. Reaching down and interlacing their fingers, Taylor rested their joined hands against her Sunshine’s chest._  
  
_“Home.”_  
  
_The other woman’s face seemed to wobble, caught between smiling and crying. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Taylor._  
  
_“I love you Blue Eyes,” she whispered, against her lips._  
  
_“Love you Sunshine,” Taylor whispered back. Pulling away, she gently placed her hands on the other woman’s stomach. “Love you too little one.”_  
  
_It was time to go. Any longer and Taylor would never leave. Holding her Sunshine’s hand for as long as possible, Taylor waded out until the water danced against her waist. Turning back one last time, Taylor waved goodbye, before disappearing like a ghost between the waves._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor broke the surface of the water, hoisting herself up on dry land and shedding her coat._  
  
_Waiting to greet her was a woman with hair the colour of sunshine._  
  
_And in her arms was a baby, eyes open wide as she saw her second mother for the first time. _  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor opened her eyes, the smell of the ocean resonating in her brain. Sitting up, she looked around the room, half expecting the girl from her dreams to miraculously appear.  
  
As she was pulled back into reality, she saw her room, really saw it, for what felt like the first time in months. Everywhere she looked, she saw reminders of Dianna, and of how much she had changed her.  
  
Boxes of makeup she didn’t use or even like now littered her room. Old photos of her and Abigail were now covered, replaced with new ones of Dianna. What she once thought of as beautiful reminders of her girlfriend, she now saw as stains.  
  
She’d had enough. Making her way to the bathroom, Taylor scrubbed her face and scalp, letting the water run cloudy with makeup, feeling her hair return to her gorgeous curls once more.  
  
As she stared at herself in the mirror, out of the corner of her eye, Taylor noticed her mint plant. The one that her mother had bought her that fateful day in New York, the day these dreams all began.  
  
Even now, years later, it was still alive and growing. And happily, Taylor realised, so was she.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god so much has happened since I last updated! If the rest of reputation is like the first two singles then I will die INSTANTLY upon hearing the entire thing. 
> 
> Sorry for the super late update! But I hope you enjoyed this monster of a chapter. 
> 
> If anyone's a bit confused about what Selkies are, watch Song of the Sea.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpFW-Fevxuw
> 
> And as always, this Taylor: http://taylorpictures.net/albums/photoshoots/2014/rollingstone/002.jpg  
> With this Karlie: http://i.imgur.com/COU6mMB.jpg


	7. Like I'm Brand New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a bunch of tooth-rotting fluff and I apologise for nothing.

For as long as they could remember, Taylor and Abigail had spent their birthdays as they did most other things; and that was together.  
  
So it wasn’t a surprise when Abigail called her only minutes after she had woken up from her newest dream.  
  
“Hey Abby,” she greeted.  
  
“Hey Taylor. Happy birthday.” The pair were uncharacteristically silent for a while, Taylor debating whether to tell Abigail the news.  
  
“So, uh…” she began. Both girls took a deep breath.  
  
“She broke up with me,” Taylor blurted.  
  
“He cheated on me,” Abigail said at the same time.  
  
A beat of stunned silence followed. Then…  
  
“He did WHAT?” Taylor yelled.  
  
“She fucking WHAT?” Abigail screamed.  
  
“She broke up with me. Last night. Over the phone.”  
  
“The BITCH. Right before your birthday? Are you alright?”  
  
“Forget her! He cheated on you?”  
  
“With like two other girls! I found out yesterday.”  
  
“That asshole!” Taylor spat.  
  
“Taylor?” Andrea called, sticking her head into the room. “What’s all the yelling for?”  
  
“Abigail’s boyfriend cheated on her, Dianna broke up with me and we’re both really sad and angry. Also I had another dream last night and I’m convinced the universe is messing with me, so life is not that great right now.” Taylor rambled.  
  
Andrea raised her eyebrows at her teary-eyed, sleep-tousled daughter.  
  
“Is that Abigail on the phone?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Tell her to come over immediately. I’ll get the chocolate and tissues.”  
  
“Will there be birthday cake?” Abigail piped up from over the phone.  
  
“Mom? Abby wants to know if there’s birthday cake.”  
  
“Taylor listen, if Abigail thinks I haven’t already baked a cake for you, then she clearly doesn’t know me very well at all.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor’s sixteenth birthday was spent with Abigail, ranting about their respective exes and stuffing their faces with whatever snacks Andrea could find. Within minutes, her room was a war zone of wrappers, paper plates, crumbs and tissues.  
  
But looking back, Taylor realised it was one of the best birthdays she’d ever had.  
  
“You know she wouldn’t let me eat any cake?” Taylor said, shoving a spoonful of birthday cake in her mouth. “Said I wouldn’t be beautiful anymore if I did.”  
  
“What?!” Abigail said, mouth dropping open.  
  
“Yeah. And she didn’t want me to spend time with you. She was convinced I’d cheat on her or something.”  
  
“Oh as if you’d cheat on anyone,” Abigail said hotly. “You’re better than that. And why the hell did she think you’d cheat with me? You’re as gay as a unicorn in a pool full of Skittles. I’m straight as fuck.”  
  
“Language Abby,” Andrea called from downstairs.  
  
“Sorry,” Abigail called back. “You know,” she continued, “I never really trusted Dianna. I don’t know why. But I didn’t want to say anything because you were so happy.”  
  
“I was,” Taylor admitted, fiddling with her spoon. “But I think that’s because I was just really… not confused, more… surprised? That another girl would actually like me back? I don’t know. I think that happiness came from the feeling of having a girlfriend, not because of Dianna herself.”  
  
“You deserve better,” Abigail said seriously. Taylor thought for a minute, pushing her remaining cake around her plate.  
  
“You know what? I really do.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“I still don’t get what I did wrong,” Abigail blew into another tissue, tossing it into the already overflowing bin. “What did I do to make him not want me?”  
  
“You didn’t do anything,” Taylor said firmly, playing with the redhead’s hair as Abigail lay her head in her lap. “You gave him so much of yourself. He’s just a scumbag.”  
  
“You know he didn’t even get me anything for my birthday? He forgot.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, you got me flowers for god’s sake! My favourites too! You know me better than my own ex-boyfriend.” Abigail looked up at Taylor with red eyes.  
  
“God you’re going to make such a great boyfriend someday. I almost envy the girl who’s gonna date you.”  
  
“Same to you,” Taylor laughed. “But, you know, in a not gay way.”  
  
“Hey, when I find the person who’s right for me, you’ll be maid of honour, right?”  
  
Taylor’s heart warmed. “You bet I will.”  
  
“Good. Now,” Abigail said, sitting up. “I’ve got an amazing idea. We’re going to put brownie mix in the waffle iron.”  
  
Taylor laughed. “Abby, you’re a beautiful mad genius.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Do you believe in reincarnation?”  
  
“What, being born as someone else after you die? Multiple lives? That sort of thing?”  
  
“Yeah,” Taylor said, squirting a generous swirl of whipped cream on top of her brownie-waffle.  
  
“I don’t know,” Abigail said, squeezing chocolate sauce on her own plate. “I guess I’ve never really had a reason to believe it’s real. It just seems… the odds of it happening, even just once, they’re so small.”  
  
“I guess so.” Taylor murmured.  
  
“Why do you ask?” Abigail passed over the bag of sprinkles. “Is this about those dreams you had? You used to talk about them all the time. Have they stopped?”  
  
Taylor doused her waffle in rainbow sprinkles. “No, actually, they’re becoming more frequent. There used to be years between each one. Now it seems there’s one every year.”  
  
“Hmm,” Abigail licked chocolate off her fingers. “And you’re sure it’s the same girl each time?”  
  
“Same girl,” Taylor confirmed. “God, I don’t know Abby. They’re not like other dreams. It’s always way too detailed.”  
  
“You think they’re real?”  
  
Taylor sighed. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Logic says they can’t be real, right? That’s just crazy.”  
  
“Buuuuut?” Abigail prompted, opening a bag of chocolate chips. Taylor hesitated.  
  
“I want them to be real.” She muttered. “I want to believe there’s someone out there who’s loved me before. I want to believe she’s real so that one day, I can love her back.” Taylor sighed, heart lighter for admitting what she had been feeling for quite some time now.  
  
“God you’re such a romantic.” Abigail muttered. “Here’s the thing. You’re the only one who knows what those dreams feel like. So you’re the only one who has any hope of understanding what they mean. You say they’re getting more frequent?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I think that’s a good sign. Maybe you’re getting closer to actually figuring them out completely.”  
  
“You really think that?”  
  
“I really do. You still don’t know her name yet do you?”  
  
“No. Her name’s never been there.”  
  
“Well maybe one day you’ll learn her name. That’s one step closer to actually finding her. Now pass me the marshmallows. This brownie-waffle needs to be so sweet that I fall into a sugar coma.”  
  
Grinning, Taylor handed over the packet. And for the first time since she was a kid, she allowed the small spark of hope in her heart to grow.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Abby,” Taylor said, hands on her hips. “We’re going to clean my room.”  
  
“Nooooo,” Abigail groaned from her spot on the couch. “Too comfy. Too much food. And why the heck do you want to clean your room now?”  
  
“You’ll see,” Taylor said, pulling her best friend up.  
  
Within the hour, the pair had a garbage bag full of everything that reminded Taylor of Dianna. Photos that she had taped over old ones of her and Abigail, posters of bands she didn’t even like, but that Dianna insisted she listen to, boxes of make-up Dianna had wanted her to wear, everything.  
  
And when they were done, Taylor stood in the middle of the room, Abigail hugging her from behind, and she finally felt clean.  
  
“I’m sorry I kinda ignored you while I was with Dianna,” Taylor said, hugging her best friend back.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Abigail replied. “ **Just don’t forget me again. **”  
****  
And just like that, Taylor’s mind was flooded with the image of green eyes and the same sunshiny smile that had filled her dreams only a night ago.  
  
But something was different. Past dreams were only caused by a single, sharp flash, a fleeting glimpse of the girl. This lasted much longer, the frustrating sense of familiarity so strong it was almost painful.  
  
Something twisted uncomfortably in her gut, causing her to double over as the pain worsened. Then it slowed, stilled, and seemed to sharpen to a compass point, urging her towards something. Or someone.  
  
But before she could get a better grip on that feeling, it vanished.  
  
“…Tay…Taylor!” Abigail’s voice cut through the fog in her brain, and Taylor looked up into the concerned eyes of her best friend.  
  
“I’m okay,” she said, straightening up. “I’m alright.”  
  
“Jesus, what was that?” Abigail asked, a steadying hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “You looked like you were going to be sick.”  
  
“That was… I saw her again.”  
  
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “Your dream girl? What the hell, it’s never been that intense before!”  
  
“No,” Taylor murmured, rubbing her stomach. “They haven’t.”  
  
“What caused it?”  
  
“Nothing! You just said ‘don’t forget me again’ and it felt like someone sucker punched me.”  
  
Abigail nodded seriously. “Hey Andrea?” she yelled. “Can I sleep over tonight?”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Abby?” Taylor whispered into the darkness.  
  
“What?” came the tired reply.  
  
“What if I don’t see her tonight? What if I never see her again?”  
  
With the quiet reassurance that only Abigail possessed, the redhead reached up from her mattress on the floor to hold Taylor’s hand.  
  
“You will. She won’t leave you. Now can you please go to sleep?”  
  
Still uncertain, Taylor fell asleep still clutching Abigail’s hand.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor’s eyes blinked open, squinting in the harsh light. God, why was it so bright in here? Did she fall asleep with the lights on? That wasn’t like her._  
  
_Confused, she sat up. Feeling a tight tug, she looked down to see an IV drip running from her hand, joining another bunch of wires hooking her up to a heart monitor. More confused than ever, she glanced around the room._  
  
_If the stark white walls and the itchy gown she was wearing was anything to go by, she was in a hospital. Which made no sense at all. Why was she here? And why did it feel like someone had stuffed her head full of cotton wool?_  
  
_Just as she moved to swing her legs off the bed, the door opened._  
  
_Taylor’s heart monitor immediately went crazy._  
  
_In walked the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Blonde hair was tied in a messy braid, clothes were dishevelled, her face slightly haggard from an apparent lack of sleep, but she looked flawless._  
  
_Taylor only realised her mouth was hanging open when a drop of spit dribbled down her chin. Hastily, she wiped it away, eyes never leaving the other woman._  
  
_Her visitor looked up at the sudden movement, gasping when she saw Taylor staring at her._  
  
_“Oh thank god, you’re awake!” she said, rushing over to the bed. She seemed to hesitate when she reached Taylor, hand outstretched as if debating whether to touch her. Eventually, she settled down in the chair beside the bed._  
  
_“So the doctor told me to make sure you drink plenty of water after you wake up. You need to rehydrate.” She said, passing Taylor a cup with a straw._  
  
_Still gaping at her visitor, Taylor clumsily took a few sips, the straw missing her mouth a few times._  
  
_“Take it easy. The pain meds and anaesthetic are probably making you feel a bit funny.”_  
  
_“Who are you?” Taylor slurred. “Are you a nurse?”_  
  
_“No, I’m not a nurse. Just keep drinking your water. I’ll be right here,” The other woman said as she helped lift the cup back to Taylor’s lips_  
  
_“You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen,” Taylor blurted. “Are you a model?”_  
  
_Apparently whatever medication she was on also made her a bit loopy. But it made her visitor laugh, at least._  
  
_“Keep drinking. It’s okay,” she said between soft giggles. But Taylor wasn’t so easily swayed._  
  
_“Who are you?” she persisted. “What’s your name?” The other woman sighed, conceding._  
  
_**“My name is Karlie. I’m your wife.”**_ ** **  
****  
_Taylor spat out her water._  
  
_“You’re MY wife?!” She choked out, voice squeaking. “Holy shit!”_  
  
_The woman, Karlie, started laughing. “Yeah. I’m your wife. Not legally of course. But we call each other wives. Keep drinking.” She said gently nudging the cup towards Taylor’s face._  
  
_“Damn,” Taylor whispered, sipping her water, unashamedly staring at the other girl. “Have we kissed yet?” she asked._  
  
_“Yes, we have,” Karlie smiled. “Many times.”_  
  
_“Are they good kisses?” Taylor asked, incredulous._  
  
_“Best I’ve ever had,” Karlie laughed._  
  
_“Woah,” Taylor said closing her eyes. A wave of exhaustion suddenly settled in her limbs, and she let out a yawn._  
  
_“You’d better get some rest. I’ll call the nurse when you wake up again.”_  
  
_“You’ll stay?” Taylor asked, not quite ready to sleep yet._  
  
_Karlie just chuckled, leaning over to kiss her forehead. Taylor’s heart monitor went haywire again, though she ignored it, battling sleep for one last look at Karlie’s face._  
  
_“Why don’t I remember you?” Taylor asked._  
  
_Karlie’s smile dropped a fraction. “I’ll let the doctor explain everything when you wake up. Sleep, Taylor. I’ll be right here.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_When Taylor woke up, Karlie was still keeping watch over her, frowning adorably as she tried to complete a newspaper crossword._  
  
_“Holy crap, you’re actually real.” Taylor said. Karlie glanced up, tucking her pencil behind her ear as she scooted closer._  
  
_“Of course I’m real, silly. Why wouldn’t I be?”_  
  
_“Because I’m almost certain I’m dreaming right now. A girl as gorgeous as you shouldn’t be allowed to exist, legally. My eyes feel assaulted.”_  
  
_Karlie laughed, reaching for a plate of dry crackers from the bedside table. “All drugged up and you still manage to be a charmer.” She muttered, handing Taylor a cracker. “No wonder I married you.”_  
  
_Taylor’s eyes widened, her addled brain still trying to process the fact that this goddess of a human being was her wife._  
  
_“How married are we?” Taylor asked again, thoughtfully chewing her cracker. “Do we hold hands and stuff?”_  
  
_Instead of answering, Karlie simply reached over and interlaced their fingers. Taylor just stared at her, a dopey smile on her face._  
  
_“Morning ladies.” Both girls looked up as a nurse entered the room. “How’s the patient doing today?” she asked Taylor._  
  
_“Look at how pretty she is,” Taylor said, pointing her cracker at Karlie. “Can you believe how pretty she is?”_  
  
_Karlie flushed red at Taylor’s ramblings, sharing a quick look with the nurse._  
  
_“Lovesick,” the nurse muttered. “Alright honey, let’s go over some quick tests.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Retrograde amnesia._  
  
_The last thing Taylor remembered was getting into her car on the way to her brother’s 21st birthday. A quick cross-check with Karlie revealed that her brother was now 25, meaning she had lost four years’ worth of memories, including everything about meeting Karlie._  
  
_“I was at work when I got the call,” Karlie explained after the nurse left. “It was a hit and run. You were just crossing the street. The people who brought you here said you tried to move out of the way, but the car grazed you and you fell. Hit your head.”_  
  
_Taylor gently traced the grazes on her face, remnants from where her head connected with the road. “And now I can’t remember any of the last four years? I can’t even remember you?” she asked sadly._  
  
_“Hey,” Karlie said, cradling her hands in her own. “The doctor said it should fix itself. We just need to give it time.”_  
  
_“We?” Taylor asked, not wanting to hope too much._  
  
_“Of course, silly.” Karlie said, kissing her forehead. “You may not remember me, but I’ll always take care of you. When you’re free to go, I’ll take you home.”_  
  
_“Wait, we live together?”_  
  
_“We do. Have been for a few years now. Our friends make fun of us for being so, they call it ‘disgustingly domestic.’”_  
  
_“Really?” Taylor said smiling._  
  
_“Oh yes. Sometimes we have spontaneous baking sessions at 2 am. And dance-offs. The neighbours kinda hate us.”_  
  
_“Jesus Christ,” Taylor said, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face. “I hit the fucking jackpot.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor was discharged from the hospital a week later._  
  
_Now that she was off the worst of her pain medication, she was a bit hesitant to show any sort of affection towards Karlie. Not that it stopped her from being completely smitten with the taller girl._  
  
_Aside from the past four years, most of Taylor’s memory was intact, so she easily recognised her apartment. What she didn’t remember were the changes that had been made since Karlie had moved in. So much so that she felt like a stranger when Karlie gently pulled her through the front door._  
  
_“How long have we been together? And when did we get a dog?” Taylor asked, sitting on the living room couch, Karlie’s dog in her lap. Well, it was their dog, she supposed. She must really love this girl if she was willing to let a dog live with them._  
  
_Karlie laughed from her spot in the kitchen. “You got Joe for our one year anniversary. And we’ve been together for almost four years now.”_  
  
_“Wow,” Taylor breathed, looking down at the small dog. “I bought him for you?”_  
  
_“Yep. You’re a really good wife.”_  
  
_Taylor blushed. “Karlie? One other question? A bit serious?” The taller woman emerged from the kitchen, looking concerned._  
  
_“What? Do you need more painkillers?”_  
  
_“No not that. My vision’s been weird since the hospital. Why is everything so blurry?” She asked squinting at her wife. Karlie’s eyes widened before she burst out laughing, startling Joe in the process._  
  
_“Oh my god, I’m such an idiot!” she said, rushing out of the room. “You need your glasses!”_  
  
_“My glasses? Since when have I needed those?” Taylor called after her._  
  
_“Taylor, your eyesight is horrible. You’ve been wearing them for ages now. Here,” Karlie said, gently sliding a pair of glasses onto Taylor’s face. As soon as Karlie’s face came into focus, Taylor’s mouth dropped open._  
  
_“Oh my god! You’re even hotter when you’re not blurry!”_  
  
_Karlie threw her head back laughing. “Well thank you. At least now you can help me make dinner.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“I’m sorry,” Taylor muttered, pushing her food around her plate._  
  
_“For what?” Karlie looked up in alarm._  
  
_“We had such a nice life together. And I want to remember everything about it, I really do. But every time I try and reach for a memory, it’s just not there. I feel like a burden.”_  
  
_Frowning, Karlie reached across the table and grasped Taylor’s hand._  
  
_“You’re not a burden, you’re my wife,” she insisted. “All I want is to see you healthy and happy. The doctors said your recovery isn’t going to happen overnight. We just need to be patient.”_  
  
_“Well, what if it takes years for my memories to come back?”_  
  
_“Then I will wait years.”_  
  
_“What if they never do?”_  
  
_“Then we’ll make new memories. We have time, Taylor.” Karlie squeezed her hand._  
  
_Staring into her green eyes, Taylor knew then and there that she had never heard three words sound more reassuring than those._  
  
_“We have time,” she nodded._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“So, are we sharing a bed?” Taylor asked, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she stood awkwardly in the bathroom doorway, watching Karlie._  
  
_“Heck yeah we are,” Karlie said, drying her hair. “But if you’re not 100% comfortable with it, then that’s alright. We’ll go at whatever pace you want,” she stressed._  
  
_“No I’m totally fine with that,” Taylor said hastily. “I just don’t want it to be weird for you.”_  
  
_“Why would it be weird? We’ve been sharing a bed for years now, and you were in that hospital for a good week. We have some serious snuggle time to catch up on. And I want to take full advantage of the fact that you don’t remember spooning with me.”_  
  
_“Why is that such a big issue?” Taylor asked, blushing at the thought of being so close to the other woman._  
  
_“Because you always hated being the big spoon. Said my hair got in your mouth. You always promised one day you’d let me be the little spoon. But you never did. So now,” Karlie turned, pointing finger guns at Taylor, “I’m cashing in on that promise.”_  
  
_Taylor smiled as Karlie took her hand, leading her into the bedroom._  
  
_“Karlie?”_  
  
_“Yes?” she said pulling back the bed covers._  
  
_“You’re a dork you know that?”_  
  
_“Maybe so,” Karlie smiled. “But I’m your dork. Now get in.”_  
  
_The girls settled in, Taylor somehow managing to hold all six-feet of Karlie at once, arms locked tentatively around her waist._  
  
_“Karlie?” she muttered._  
  
_“Yes?”_  
  
_“If I get my memories back-”_  
  
_“When.” Karlie interrupted._  
  
_“Sorry. When I get my memories back, remind me to apologise for not being the big spoon sooner.”_  
  
_“That good huh?” Even with the taller woman facing the other way, Taylor could still hear the smile in her voice._  
  
_“Yep. I have never been more comfortable.”_  
  
_A beat of silence, then… “Karlie?”_  
  
_“Yes Taylor?”_  
  
_“I know this might sound weird, but,” Taylor trailed off. Sensing her hesitation, Karlie turned in the circle of Taylor’s arms, gently brushing their noses together, a silent encouragement._  
  
_Taylor took a deep breath. “Ever since I woke up in the hospital, from the first moment I saw you, everything’s felt like a dream. I feel so connected to you, on more than just a physical level. It’s like I’ve known you since the beginning of everything. Like we’re made from the same star.”_  
  
_Taylor looked away, unable to bear Karlie’s intense green eyes while she was speaking._  
  
_“But with my memories gone… it all feels so delicate. Like I could lose everything in a second. And it’s so, so scary.” Taylor finally met Karlie’s now-watery eyes again._  
  
_“But everything’s better when you’re close. Everything’s calm. It’s like you’re healing me just by being here.” Taylor retracted her arm to interlace her fingers with Karlie’s. “I may be trying to find my old self again. But I’m so glad I’m finding it with you. So thank you,” she finished with a smile._  
  
_Karlie’s mouth wobbled as she lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to Taylor’s fingers._  
  
_“Damn it Taylor. Words were always your thing, not mine,” Karlie let out a watery chuckle, brushing her fingers across the grazes on Taylor’s face, all that remained of her accident._  
  
_“I won’t say that you losing your memory hasn’t been hard for me,” she continued, “but you’ve been the centre of my world for so long I’ve forgotten how I even lived before you. And that certainly isn’t going to stop now.”_  
  
_That night, oblivious to the outside world, the pair lay content in the safety of each other’s arms. And as she drifted off, Taylor felt like her life had a foundation once more, made solid and secure on the knowledge that whatever life threw at her, she would never be alone._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Just as Karlie promised, Taylor’s memory returned in fragments, puzzle pieces falling into place._  
  
_Two nights after coming home, Taylor woke up in the middle of the night with an inexplicable urge to bake. Moving without thought, she manoeuvred herself out of Karlie’s tight grip, tiptoed to the kitchen and was halfway through the third batch of cookies before she even realised what she was doing._  
  
_“Taylor? What’s going on?” Karlie murmured, voice cloudy with sleep as she entered the room. Taylor looked around at the trays of cookies that covered almost every surface in the kitchen._  
  
_“I… have no idea.” She concluded. “I think I sleepwalked into the kitchen and… I may have accidentally baked eighty cookies.”_  
  
_Karlie hummed thoughtfully, stretching her arms above her head. Taylor reddened as her eyes zeroed in on the patch of skin that showed when Karlie’s shirt rode up._  
  
_“Like what you see?” Karlie teased, striding forward and taking a huge bite of cookie. Then her eyes widened._  
  
_“Taylor? How did you remember this recipe?” She asked carefully._  
  
_“I don’t know,” Taylor said. “It was like I was moving on autopilot. Why?”_  
  
_“I taught you this recipe. It was one of the first things we baked together,” Karlie said, excitement creeping into her voice. “You remembered!”_  
  
_“I did?”_  
  
_“You did!” Karlie yelled._  
  
_“I did! Oh my god!” Taylor’s voice increased in volume._  
  
_Squealing, Karlie practically threw herself across the counter, sweeping Taylor up in a hug. Taylor laughed giddily, tucking her face into the crook of Karlie’s neck._  
  
_Suddenly a loud pounding noise echoed through the apartment, accompanied by the disgruntled voice of their neighbour._  
  
_“Would you two SHUT IT? Some of us actually SLEEP at this hour you know?”_  
  
_Taylor and Karlie made eye contact for one second before erupting into laughter. Swiping the tears from her eyes, Taylor rested her forehead against Karlie’s._  
  
_“I remembered something,” she whispered._  
  
_“I knew you would. Now come on, we’ve got a lot of cookies to eat.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“You proposed to me on one of our road trips. Big Sur.”_  
  
_Karlie looked down at Taylor, who was resting her head in the taller woman’s lap._  
  
_“I did,” she said, trailing her fingers through Taylor’s hair._  
  
_“You hid the ring in a guitar case.”_  
  
_“I did,” Karlie laughed._  
  
_“You pretended you bought me a new guitar, but there was just a box inside. And that box had another five boxes in it. And I was really mad at you because I thought you just gave me an endless stream of boxes. ”_  
  
_“That’s right!” Karlie laughed. “You said yes though. That was the best trip we’ve ever taken.”_  
  
_“We didn’t leave the cabin all day.” Taylor said bluntly. “There was a lot of sex.”_  
  
_“Like I said, best trip we’ve ever taken.” Karlie winked._  
  
_“Can we do that again?”_  
  
_“The road trip?”_  
  
_“No, the sex.”_  
  
_“What? Absolutely not. No rigorous activity, doctor’s orders. And knowing us, that particular activity will get rigorous real quick.”_  
  
_“Aww,” Taylor whined._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_In time, memories continued to return, tiny splashes of colour coming back into Taylor’s mind and heart. Until one day, she woke up, face inches away from Karlie’s, the taller woman only just starting to open her eyes._  
  
_And everything was there. Everything was back._  
  
_Clumsily reaching for her glasses, Taylor slid them on her face before cupping the back of Karlie’s neck, kissing her soft lips._  
  
_“Morning babe,” she said._  
  
_“Mmm, morning,” Karlie said, voice groggy from sleep. Then her words finally sunk in, and Karlie’s green eyes widened, locked onto Taylor’s blue._  
  
_“Taylor, did you just call me babe?”_  
  
_“Yep,” Taylor said, popping the last letter._  
  
_“And did you just kiss me?”_  
  
_“Yep. I’ve been waking you up that way for years now. What, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”_  
  
_Something was different about Taylor’s demeanour. Something more comfortable and assured in herself. Something so familiar Karlie wanted to scream, not wanting to hope for too much._  
  
_Frantically, she rolled over so she was straddling Taylor, cupping her face in her hands._  
  
_“When did we have our first kiss?” She asked urgently._  
  
_“4th of July,” Taylor replied, the memory returning as easily as blinking. “We were on the roof, watching the fireworks. I asked if I could kiss you, and we did. A lot. We started dating after that.”_  
  
_Karlie shrieked, peppering Taylor’s face with kisses once she realised what had happened overnight. Taylor smiled happily, snaking her arms around Karlie’s waist._  
  
_“I’ve missed you,” Karlie whispered tearfully, resting their foreheads together._  
  
_“Missed me? I didn’t realise I had been away,” Taylor joked._  
  
_“Shut up,” Karlie said, pressing their lips together._  
  
_“I love you,” Taylor said sincerely. “I’m so lucky to have found you. I’m so lucky that I was able to fall in love with you all over again.”_  
  
_“I love you too baby. So much. **Just don’t forget me again.** ” She whispered playfully._  
  
_“Never again,” Taylor agreed. “You and me forevermore, right?”_  
  
_“Until the end of time.” Karlie whispered._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor woke up with tears on her face once again. Only this time, she was smiling.  
  
Rolling out of bed, she landed ungracefully on top of Abigail, jolting the redhead awake.  
  
“Taylor what the fuck?” Abigail hissed. Taylor said nothing, just hugging her best friend.  
  
“Well someone’s happy,” Abigail muttered. “I take it your girl visited you again? Did you learn anything new?”  
  
“Karlie,” Taylor whispered, reverently. “Her name is Karlie.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So reputation killed me. I died dead. It's so good n gay. My list of favourites keeps changing but as it stands, I think Delicate, Getaway Car and New Years Day are my jams.


	8. Nothing Good Starts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you guys so much for all your comments, they really helped me finish this chapter. Enjoy!

The year Taylor turned seventeen was one of the most hectic periods of her life.  
  
After months of silence from every record company she had contacted, and after weeks of discussions with her mother, they made the surprisingly easy decision to move to Nashville. As much as she would miss her childhood home, Taylor was thrilled. She knew this was the right choice.  
  
The hardest thing of course, was saying goodbye to Abigail. In the months prior to the move, most of her time was spent with her best friend, their inevitable goodbye weighing heavily on their shoulders.  
  
The night before the move, she and Abigail had one final sleepover. And after a morning of endless hugs, tears, and promises to call as often as possible, Taylor climbed into the car, Andrea already waiting to drive them to the airport.  
  
As she clutched Dee to her chest, her old cat purring contentedly, Taylor stared out the back window, watching Abigail and her house slowly fade away.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“So, how’s Nashville treating you? Any luck?”  
  
“Maybe,” Taylor said into the phone. “I was playing at this cafe yesterday. This dude called Scott seemed pretty interested. I think he’s starting his own record company or something. He said he’d get in touch in a few days.”  
  
“That’s awesome!”  
  
“Yeah!” Taylor frowned as she heard the sound of a car door over the phone. “Wait, are you in a car?”  
  
“Uh, yeah. Just going out with Dad for a bit. Keep talking.”  
  
“Okay… Anyway, Mom really feels good about this one, so that’s a good sign.” Taylor was interrupted by a loud knock at the front door.  
  
“Taylor? Can you get that?” Andrea yelled.  
  
“Sure Mom! Abby can you hold on for a sec?” Taylor raced down the stairs. Skidding to a stop, she opened the front door.  
  
And promptly dropped her phone.  
  
“Miss me?” Abigail grinned, suitcase in hand. Taylor shrieked, jumping forward to hug the redhead, almost overbalancing them both.  
  
“Oh my god! What are you doing here?”  
  
“Abby and her family are moving to Nashville,” Andrea answered, leaning against the doorway.  
  
“What?! Mom you knew about this?”  
  
“I did,” Andrea smiled. “Though it was her idea to keep it a secret,” she said, nodding towards Abigail.  
  
“You’re moving here with me and you didn’t say anything?” Taylor squeaked.  
  
“Yep!” Abigail said proudly. “We all missed you two.”  
  
“God, I hate you so much right now.” Taylor gently hit Abigail’s arm. “You’re never allowed to keep secrets again, understand?”  
  
“Yeah, sure. Now are you going to invite me inside or what? I want to see my room.”  
  
“Your room?” Andrea chuckled.  
  
“My room, Taylor’s room, same thing.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Scott kept his promise.  
  
Within the span of a few weeks, Taylor had her record deal. And soon enough, she had her first album. And it did better than she dared hope.  
  
It did sting that some of the higher ups at Big Machine insisted she switch pronouns for some of the songs, even though most of them were gender neutral. Better chances of a successful album if it appeared as though she was singing about a boy (apparently).  
  
Taylor was mad. She was just beginning to embrace who she really was. Why change that now? But eventually, she conceded. As much as her family accepted and loved her, the world was not always a forgiving place. She could always come out publically later, if the need arose.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The weeks leading up to her birthday were such a blur of meetings and album promotion that Taylor almost forgot she was, in fact, turning seventeen.  
  
That was until Andrea gently kicked her door open that morning, ‘Dancing Queen’ already blaring from her phone, tossing a handful of confetti over Taylor’s bed.  
  
“Mom why?” Taylor groaned, shuffling further under the covers even as colourful bits of paper settled in her hair.  
  
“Because today is your birthday, you’ve been working very hard, I am very proud of you, and we have to leave soon. We’ve got birthday pancakes to eat.”  
  
Taylor raised her head. “Pancakes? Are we going to the Pancake Pantry for breakfast?”  
  
“Maybe,” Andrea smiled mysteriously.  
  
With a sigh, Taylor face planted back into her pillow. “Alright, give me fifteen minutes.”  
  
“You have ten,” Andrea said, ruffling Taylor’s hair. “Come on.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
While Taylor’s birthday had slipped her own mind, it seemed as though fate, the universe, whatever forces-that-be that were out there, hadn’t been so forgetful.  
  
Either by pure chance or sheer coincidence, when she and Andrea piled into the car, they happened to shut their doors at the same time.  
  
And the resulting slam was enough to trigger a fresh wave of images she knew would appear in her dreams later that night. Car doors. The acrid scent of fuel. Echoes of gunfire. And the same green eyes she now knew so well.  
  
Doubling over, Taylor barely had time to focus the sharp pulling sensation in her gut before it vanished once again.  
  
“Taylor?” Andrea said in alarm, hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Taylor looked up at her mother, a wide grin splitting her face.  
  
“I’m alright Mom. It was just Karlie again.”  
  
“So I guess you’ll be getting another dream tonight?” Andrea smiled at the fondness in her daughter’s voice.  
  
“Guess so,” Taylor said eagerly. No matter how many times it happened, she still felt herself dissolving into an excited mess at the prospect of seeing Karlie again, even if it was just in her head.  
  
“So, can I go back to bed then? She’s waiting for me.”  
  
“Nice try darling. I’m sure she can wait until we get back. And so can you.”  
  
“Mom,” Taylor whined.  
  
“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. Now put your seatbelt on. All passengers in my car are to ride safely, regardless of any birthday girl status.”  
  
“Aww, Mom.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“Shit!” Taylor hissed, as a stream of bullets zipped by her ear. “I thought you said there were only two guards!”  
  
“There **were** only two!” The curly-haired girl beside her screamed back.  
  
“This is significantly more than two, Ella!” Taylor pointed out, firing back at their assailants.  
  
“I can see that Boss, thanks!” Ella said, back against the car they were using as cover. A line of men were positioned before the building across the road, all guns trained on the row of parked cars that belonged to Taylor and her girls.  
  
“Damn it,” Taylor muttered as a bullet narrowly missed her shoulder. “Right, we need a new plan. Lily!” she shouted.  
  
At her call, a tall brunette swung herself over the hood of the next car over, as graceful as ever. Ducking under fire, she crouched down beside the pair, bullets resuming their relentless assault.  
  
“Boss, something’s wrong,” Lilly said over the noise. “These guys are way too armed and organised for any Tuesday morning security guards. And this isn’t even the biggest bank in town.”  
  
“Agreed,” Taylor said. “Someone tipped us off.”  
  
“We can do this if we play it right,” Lily thought aloud. “We just need a new opening.”  
  
“Right,” Taylor said, thinking fast. “Ella, I need you to find a way inside,” she said, pressing a grenade into the younger girl’s hands. “Give the signal once you’re in and we’ll follow you. Can you do that?”  
  
“Definitely,” Ella said, eyes glinting. Taylor and Lily watched as she scurried off, scaling the side of the nearest building to escape the gunfire.  
  
“Let’s round up the others,” Taylor said to Lily. “We’ve got a bank to rob.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
No sooner had the remaining girls banded together than a loud explosion ripped through the air. Taylor looked up to see a plume of smoke trailing from the building’s side.  
  
“That’s Ella!” Lily yelled. “Let’s go!”  
  
But Taylor hesitated as three more explosions sounded from the building, one of the front walls caving in under a cloud of smoke.  
  
“Boss? We need to move!” Lily urged. Taylor mutely shook her head.  
  
“I only gave Ella one grenade…”  
  
As understanding showed in Lily’s eyes, a spray of gunfire split the air. Instinctively ducking, Taylor watched the bodies of the guards shudder and fall, blood blossoming against their clothes. The shots were coming from inside.  
  
Worry worming through her gut, Taylor ran towards the building.  
  
Inside was a debris of broken glass and bodies splayed across the floor, smoke still curling around the wreckage. Taylor began picking her way through the rows of corpses, praying she wouldn’t find a certain head of curly hair in the fray.  
  
A gun clicked.  
  
In a blink Taylor’s own weapon was up, joined by the rest of her team as they aimed at the figures emerging from the smoke.  
  
Taylor quickly realised that they were outnumbered, the new group far larger than her own. And each woman was carrying a large duffel bag, no doubt filled with the same cash Taylor herself had come to steal.  
  
And heading the group was a lithe, dark-skinned woman, grinning triumphantly as she held Ella in a headlock, gun to her head. The younger girl made eye contact, noiselessly mouthing an apology. Taylor shook her head minutely, focusing on the woman holding her youngest member hostage.  
  
“Dunn,” she nodded in greeting. “Good to see you again.”  
  
“Swift. I see you’ve picked up a new pet,” Jourdan said, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against Ella’s temple.  
  
“Cut the bullshit,” Taylor said. “Where is she? Let me talk to her.”  
  
“I don’t take orders from you!” Jourdan sneered.  
  
“Steady Jourdan,” a sultry voice echoed from the smoke. “I’d say the woman deserves to be a little pissed off.” The owner of the new voice prowled into view.  
  
“Karlie fucking Kloss,” Taylor growled.  
  
“Well if it isn’t the Catastrophe herself,” Karlie practically purred. “How unexpected.”  
  
“Really?” Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Because I can’t help but notice this is the third time you’ve done this to us.”  
  
“And what exactly have I done, might I ask?” Karlie smiled innocently.  
  
“Found out our plan, tipped us off to the cops, snuck in while they were shooting at us and taken what we were rightfully about to steal.”  
  
“Would you look at that,” Karlie said to her girls, “The Catastrophe actually has a brain!” Taylor’s cheeks grew hot at their laughter.  
  
“Listen,” Karlie said. “I was working this city for years before you showed up. I have the right to steal whatever I want. Understand?”  
  
“Oh I understand alright,” Taylor said venomously. “I understand you saw me as a threat when I started to pull off more heists than you. You’re just a coward who doesn’t have the balls to face me directly, so you stoop to doing this. I understand you perfectly.”  
  
Karlie’s face turned dark. “You know nothing about me,” she said, stepping closer to Taylor with each word. “Do you really think you’re above me? Better than me? I’m not the one who let down one of my own girls.”  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Taylor saw Jourdan pull the safety of her gun.  
  
“You’re in no position to negotiate here,” Karlie continued. “So you’re going to let us leave quietly. And we’re taking your little friend with us, so don’t try anything funny. If you follow us,” she jabbed a finger at Taylor’s chest, “we both know how it’ll end. Got it?  
  
Taylor clenched her jaw, lowering her gun in assent and signalling for her girls to do the same.  
  
“Just let her go,” Taylor said, gesturing to Ella.  
  
“All in good time. I’ll send her back once we’re a good distance away.”  
  
Taylor nodded. Jerking her chin towards the exit, she sent one last scathing look Karlie’s way.  
  
“Just get the hell out of here. Don’t think I’m going to forget this Kloss,” Taylor said.  
  
“Oh I’m so scared,” Karlie drawled, backing to the exit with the rest of her gang. “See you around, Swift.”  
  
Just like that, Taylor’s team was left standing in the smoking remains of the building.  
  
After a few minutes, Ella appeared at the entrance, no worse for wear. Taylor placed her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders as she approached.  
  
“You okay?” she asked, eyes sparkling with concern. Ella gave a shaky nod. Taylor sighed, draping a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
  
“Come on everyone,” she turned to the others. "Let’s head home.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“NYPD! Everyone get on the ground! You’re all under arrest!”  
  
Taylor jolted awake in time for her hands to be jerked behind her back, the harsh click of handcuffs ringing in her ears.  
  
“What the fuck!” she spat at the cop as she was dragged from her room. Looking around, she saw the other girls in similar situations, each struggling against their captors.  
  
Amidst the panic, Taylor was able to catch Lily’s gaze as they were led outside, giving her the slightest of nods. Lily gave a grim smile, turning and yelling at the others to stop fighting. Even half-asleep, Taylor knew their best chance was to try and remain together. They had been arrested before, and had escaped just fine.  
  
This time would be no different.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Within hours, Taylor was wearing a scratchy prison jumpsuit, and was being led to her cell.  
  
“Here you go Swift,” the guard opened the door. “Meet your new roommate.”  
  
Taylor surveyed the room. Pretty standard. No windows, two beds, one of which was occupied by…  
  
Oh come on.  
  
“You’ve got to be joking,” Taylor spat, turning back to the guard. “Hey on second thought, is the death penalty still an option? It’d be less painful than this.”  
  
“Well I’m not exactly jumping for joy either,” Karlie muttered from her bed.  
  
“Sorry ladies, nothing I can do,” the guard said, closing the door. Taylor rolled her eyes. Of all the inmates in this godforsaken place…  
  
“Figured I’d be seeing you here eventually,” Karlie smirked, hands draped lazily behind her head as she stood. “Though you arrived sooner than I expected. Eager to see me?”  
  
“Dry up Kloss. You’re the one who wound up in here first,” Taylor retorted.  
  
“Yeah but I’m also the one who told them where to find you.”  
  
Silence fell between them like a tonne.  
  
“You. Did. What?” Taylor ground out.  
  
“They offered to reduce my sentence if I gave out names and locations,” Karlie examined her nails. “I’ve been keeping tabs on your gang for months now. Wasn’t difficult to-”  
  
Taylor punched her. Fist flying almost of its own volition, her knuckles connected with the blonde’s cheek before she could finish her sentence. Karlie’s head snapped to the side, blinking in surprise.  
  
“Is that it? Don’t hold back or anything.”  
  
“Oh I did, believe me,” Taylor hissed.  
  
“You know, for a pretty girl you sure can punch,” Karlie rubbed her cheek.  
  
“Well for a selfish dickhead, you sure are good at inviting punches,” Taylor stepped forward so they were toe to toe. “Now you listen to me, Kloss. You may have landed me in here, but I will be breaking out. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do to stop me. So just shut up and stay out of my way, got it?”  
  
Karlie shot her another infuriating smirk, sending a flush of anger through Taylor’s stomach.  
  
“Whatever you say pretty girl,” she said idly, flopping back on her bed. “Though considering we’re sharing a room, I’d reckon it’ll be hard to ignore me for long. So take a load off. What’s mine is yours.” She continued, spreading her arms wide to encompass the whole cell.  
  
Taylor snorted. “I don’t want anything you have to offer.”  
  
“You’ll come around. I’m irresistible,” Karlie leant back, eyes closed.  
  
“More like insufferable,” Taylor muttered. “Dickhead.”  
  
Still hot with anger, she climbed into the opposite bed, shifting to get comfortable on the hard surface. Glancing over, she saw her roommate already asleep, smirk etched into her features.  
  
She had to escape. The sooner the better.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor sighed, abandoning her futile attempt to dry her hair. Stupid prison-issue towels.  
  
The past few weeks had been a sluggish blur of crappy food, covert meetings with her gang, and trying to deal with a certain overbearing roommate. Taylor swore she was getting greys.  
  
She was brought out of her thoughts by a wet towel aimed directly at her head, Karlie’s way of announcing her return.  
  
“Shit!” she scrabbled to push the offending pile of fabric from her face, turning to glare at the other woman.  
  
“What the fuck Kloss- AAHH!” Taylor threw her hands on front of her face.  
  
“Christ the showers here are awful,” Karlie muttered as she strode into the room.  
  
Very, very naked.  
  
“Kloss, seriously what the hell?! Put some damn clothes on!” Taylor said, attempting to shield her eyes.  
  
“No need to be modest,” Karlie waved her off. “I don’t mind you looking.”  
  
“Well I mind! Can you at least face the wall?”  
  
“Fine, fine,” the taller woman pulled on some underwear before sitting on her bed, back towards Taylor. “Happy?”  
  
“Better.” Taylor lowered her hands, eyebrows furrowing as she noticed the scars littering Karlie’s skin. Trailing a critical eye down her back, she noted their irregularity, some small and round, others thin and long.  
  
“Those look nasty,” she commented offhandedly.  
  
“Yeah,” Karlie looked over her shoulder. “Occupational hazard. I bet even you’ve got one or two.”  
  
“You’d be right about that,” Taylor unconsciously rubbed the back of her head.  
  
“Hey,” Karlie turned around, still shirtless.  
  
“Damn it Kloss,” Taylor said, suddenly finding the ceiling extremely interesting to look at.  
  
“I’ll tell you about mine if you show me yours,” Karlie said, ignoring her.  
  
“Really?” Taylor muttered. “We’re really going to do the whole comparing thing?”  
  
“Hey if you’ve got a better way to pass the time then I’m all ears.”  
  
Taylor sighed. “You’re still shirtless.”  
  
“I’m aware. Care to join me?” Karlie asked with a suggestive smirk.  
  
Another sigh. Whether out of sheer boredom, or genuine curiosity about the other woman, Taylor found herself stripping, leaving only her underwear on.  
  
“Kloss, if you’re that eager to get me out of my clothes, you could have just asked,” she quipped.  
  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Karlie smiled, eyes roaming appreciatively over Taylor’s exposed skin. Funnily enough, Taylor found she no longer minded the other woman’s gaze, or her current state of undress.  
  
“Bullet wounds,” she began, pointing to her shoulder and thigh. “Here and here.”  
  
“Ouch,” Karlie pouted thoughtfully. “Through and through?”  
  
“Not this one,” Taylor poked the circle of puckered skin on her thigh. “Had to dig this one out.”  
  
“Mmm,” Karlie hummed. Twisting around, she gestured to a thin, raised line parallel to her ribs, and another, thicker line along the curve of her breast.  
“Got into a turf war with another gang before you arrived on the scene. Knife fight.”  
  
“Shit,” Taylor whistled. “They stabbed you?”  
  
“He tried to,” Karlie corrected. “And wound up with a knife in another, far more painful spot.”  
  
Despite herself, despite everything, Taylor laughed.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The night wore on, the pair trading stories and sharing quiet laughs. And Taylor found herself gaining a begrudging respect for her cellmate with each tale. Karlie’s skin was like a library, each scar bearing the promise of a lesson learned, a life lived. They were more alike than Taylor realised.  
  
She almost regretted the bruise that graced the green-eyed woman’s cheek.  
  
“What about that one? That looks pretty fresh,” Taylor pointed to a barely-healed cut on Karlie’s stomach. The laughter in her companion’s eyes was abruptly extinguished.  
  
“Ah,” she sighed. “You can thank Cara and Jourdan for that.”  
  
“What? But they’re your partners aren’t they? Second in command?”  
  
“They were,” Karlie muttered. Taylor felt the weight behind those words, the horrid implication of the past tense.  
  
“What happened?” she whispered.  
  
Karlie let out a mirthless laugh. “Haven’t you wondered why the rest of my girls aren’t here? We let that kid of yours go, and then Cara and Jourdan turned their guns on me. They all did.”  
  
“They betrayed you?” Taylor asked, heart sinking.  
  
Karlie nodded. “Beat me up pretty good. Took the loot, called the cops, left me there to get arrested.” Leaning back against the wall, she let out a heavy sigh.  
  
“You know, this is the first time I’ve had to face things alone. I’ve always had my girls to back me up, and now…” Karlie left the sentence hanging.  
  
Taylor contemplated the other woman, now looking so tired, so much smaller without her usual cocksure bravado. Pushing herself up, she moved to sit on beside Karlie.  
  
“I’ve got one more scar,” she said, taking Karlie’s hand and raising it to her head. She directed Karlie’s hand to the base of her skull, watching her eyes widen as her fingers sank into blonde hair.  
  
“How’d you get that?” She asked, fingers drifting over the lump, the slight protrusion on her skull.  
  
“My first official heist as boss. I got cocky and let the cops get the jump on us. One of them cracked me over the head with a club.” Karlie winced in sympathy.  
  
“Sometimes we screw up,” Taylor continued. “Sometimes other people screw us over. But you’ve just got to keep going.” She smiled at Karlie. “We’re thieves. Nowhere else to go but up, right?”  
  
Karlie gave her the most enigmatic look she’d ever seen before offering a smile.  
  
“You’re alright Swift,” she said, playfully shoving her shoulder. “You’re alright.”  
  
“High praise coming from you,” Taylor chuckled. “Hey, it’s pretty late. We’d better sleep.”  
  
“Agreed,” Karlie said, laying down. Taylor moved to return to her own bed, but was halted by a hand on her arm.  
  
Taylor turned back to look at Karlie, gauging whether to punch her again or welcome the touch. But Karlie stared back steadily, not expecting anything other than her company.  
  
Surprising both of them, Taylor lay down so the pair were back to back. She had to admit, this wasn’t bad. Much warmer this way, she told herself. Beside her, she felt a sigh of content.  
  
“Night pretty girl,” Karlie murmured.  
  
“Night you selfish dickhead,” Taylor responded. And for the first time, those words held no malice.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Following that night, the pair rarely slept alone. And for a time, it was just that: sleeping.  
  
Until one night it wasn’t.  
  
A few weeks later, Taylor hastily pulled Lily to a secluded corner of the cafeteria during mealtime.  
  
“I’ve got to tell you something,” Taylor cast furtive glances around her.  
  
“What? Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine I just,” Taylor sighed in frustration. “Listen. I may have done something…bad, last night. And I don’t want you to freak out, okay?”  
  
Lily squinted at her, mouth twisted in suspicion. Then her jaw dropped, eyes blown wide.  
  
“Holy shit! You had sex with Kloss?!”  
  
“What!” Taylor whisper-yelled. “How could you have possibly guessed that?”  
  
“The only time you spend apart from us is in your cell, so if something were to happen without me knowing it must have happened there. You saying it was something bad must mean it has something to do with sex. And for you to think I would freak out means it can’t have been with any old inmate. Ergo, you slept with Kloss.”  
  
Taylor was stunned. “Jesus, Lily. That was impressive.”  
  
“So I’m not wrong? Please tell me I’m wrong,” She begged.  
  
Taylor sighed. “Yes. I had sex with Karlie, alright?”  
  
“Oh so it’s Karlie now, is it? Damn it Taylor,” Lily ran a hand down her face. “You couldn’t curb your lesbianism for at least a few more days? We’re escaping soon! Why are you telling me this?”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Taylor forced herself to look the other woman in the eye.  
  
“I want Karlie to come with us.”  
  
“Oh you’ve got to be joking,” Lily spat.  
  
“Listen,” Taylor said, voice firm. “She’s one of the greatest gang leaders in the entire city, and she doesn’t have a gang anymore. If she joined us, the information and knowledge she’d be able to give is priceless.”  
  
“How do I know you’re not making this decision based the fact that you two are sleeping together?”  
  
Taylor flinched, stung. “You just… trust me.”  
  
Lily seemed to wilt, eyes softening. “I do trust you. You know I do. It’s her I don’t trust. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten she’s the reason we’re in here in the first place? The second we turn our backs she’ll put a knife there.”  
  
“She won’t. I trust her.”  
  
“I still don’t like it.”  
  
“Nothing I say will make you like it,” Taylor countered. “But she’s coming with us.”  
  
“Fine,” Lily relented. “But if she screws us over, it’s all on you.”  
  
“As always,” Taylor nodded.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“How’d it go?”  
  
“Could’ve been better,” Taylor admitted, leaning her head against Karlie’s shoulder. “You certainly don’t have any fans in my corner.”  
  
“Fair enough. It’s not as though I’ve done anything to inspire any confidence,” Karlie smiled ruefully.  
  
“Hey,” Taylor raised her head, giving the other woman a hard look. “I’ve forgiven you for that, okay? We all do bad shit in this line of work. Let’s not have that stand in the way anymore, yeah?”  
  
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Karlie smiled at her.  
  
“Yeah, I’m pretty irresistible,” Taylor grinned.  
  
“And full of yourself,” Karlie chuckled. “Alright, so we’ve already swiped the keys to everyone’s cells. And we’ve got the spread of the guards and their shifts. What’s the plan once we’re out?”  
  
“Ella did some recon on the prison’s deliveries. There’s a truck that’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow night at the kitchens. All we need to do is sneak in there and take out the kitchen hands and the drivers. Then the truck’s ours.”  
  
“Easy then,” Karlie chuckled.  
  
“Easy,” Taylor echoed. “Absolutely nothing to worry about.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Balls,” Karlie hissed.  
  
“Shut up and hold still,” Taylor grumbled, tightening the scrap of cloth around Karlie’s calf, blood rapidly staining the fabric. “God trust you to fuck up the escape plan.”  
  
“Well, excuse me for taking a bullet for one of your girls,” Karlie said wiping the sweat dripping into her eyes.  
  
The escape plan had been going perfectly, the group arriving at the kitchens without a hitch. Storming into the room, they made short work of dispatching the deliverymen.  
  
Only to have one more worker enter the room, clipboard in hand, just as they were climbing into the truck. A single yell had alerted everyone to their position, and they soon found themselves under fire in the spacious kitchen.  
  
The first guard to arrive had immediately raised his gun towards Lily. But just as he pulled the trigger, Karlie had thrown her bodily out of the way, earning a bullet to the leg in return.  
  
Once again Taylor had found herself dodging a hail of bullets as she scurried to Karlie’s side, yelling for the rest of her girls to get the hell out of there.  
  
Dragging the taller woman to a secluded section of the room, she peered around the corner in time to see the last of her gang helping each other into the truck, driving off into the night.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Taylor deposited Karlie into a nearby storeroom, closing the door just as the rushed past outside.  
  
“We need to get out of here before they put this whole place on lockdown,” Taylor muttered, kneeling down next to Karlie and checking her leg. Ripping off another strip of her jumpsuit, she deftly rewrapped the wound.  
  
“Get to the front entrance,” Karlie grimaced, bracing herself against a wall. “It’s a reception area. There’s bound to be cars parked out front for you to hijack.”  
  
“You say that as if you’re not coming with me.” In the dim light, Taylor suddenly noticed how pale Karlie had become, skin gleaming with sweat.  
  
“I can’t run, I can barely walk. You need to go.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Taylor said. Suddenly her head snapped to the side, hearing voices coming from behind the door. “Stay down,” she ordered, slipping quietly outside.  
  
Karlie listened to the tell-tale sounds of a scuffle, and what sounded like someone’s head being slammed against the door.  
  
Taylor re-entered, a gun in each hand.  
  
“You may not be able to walk, but you can shoot. Now I’m getting out of here,” she crouched next to Karlie, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. “But not without you.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“GO GO GO!” Taylor screamed, firing out the window of their commandeered police car.  
  
The pair had manged to steal a car alright, but not without attracting attention. Hence the line of identical cars in pursuit, sirens wailing.  
  
“We need a plan Taylor! Where am I headed?!” Karlie yelled.  
  
“The rendezvous point! We can meet up with the others!”  
  
“Got it!” Karlie slammed the acceleration pedal.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
What followed was the kind of car chase that would put any stunt driver to shame. Karlie, Taylor soon discovered, was a mad driver, unafraid of using alleyways or smashing through fences to get where they were going.  
  
Taylor thanked whatever gods were listening that they had the sense to organise a meeting point if anything were to go south during the escape.  
  
The pair found themselves flying along a highway, moonlight lighting the asphalt silver as they sped along. The rendezvous point was just a few miles away, an abandoned train station overlooking the city.  
  
But their car had started to smoke, engine struggling under the haze of bullets.  
  
“Taylor we need to think of something quick or this car’s going to blow!”  
  
“I’m doing my best here!” Taylor yelled back, struggling to fire at a police car speeding alongside them.  
  
“Uh, Taylor?” Karlie said, looking in the rear view mirror.  
  
“What?”  
  
“We’ve got a truck.”  
  
“A what?” Twisting around, Taylor’s eyes widened at the sight of a huge truck barreling towards them, shoving police cars out of its way as it approached. Catching their assailant’s off-guard, the truck rear-ended the car travelling beside them, sending it flying.  
  
“How’s it going Boss?” called a chirpy voice from the driver’s seat.  
  
“Ella!” Taylor cried joyfully.  
  
“Kid!” Karlie shouted. “Are you even old enough to drive?”  
  
“I’m 21!” Ella yelled back indignantly.  
  
As Taylor chuckled, the side-door of the truck slid open, revealing the concerned faces of her gang.  
  
“You need to jump!” Lily yelled, voice almost lost in the wind. “That car’s going to explode any second!”  
  
“On it!” Taylor turned to Karlie, “You ready for this?”  
  
“You bet,” Karlie nodded, a devilish smile on her face as she manoeuvred their car closer to the truck.  
  
As Karlie kept the car going, Taylor opened the side door. Taking a deep breath, she took a flying leap, crying out in relief when she felt her girls pulling her into the truck. Just as she turned around in jubilation, a well-aimed shot took out one of the rear tyres of the car, sending it skidding backwards.  
  
“Karlie!” She yelled in panic.  
  
“Hang on!” Ella yelled, braking hard. Steering them behind Karlie, she rear-ended the car, keeping it travelling forwards.  
  
Leaning out the side as far as she dared, Taylor’s eyes widened at the sight of Karlie hauling herself onto the car’s roof, face screwed in pain. Not wasting a second, she scrambled up the ladder attached to the truck’s side, clambering up to the roof.  
  
“Taylor don’t!” Lily screamed as she dropped from the roof onto the hood of the truck.  
  
“Karlie! You’ve got to jump!” she yelled, eyes stinging from the smoke.  
  
Agonisingly slowly, Karlie stood on her injured leg. Her green eyes shone in the darkness as they locked onto Taylor’s. Fist curling in determination, she took a running leap, and jumped onto the hood of their truck.  
  
“Got you!” Taylor shouted, arms wrapping securely around Karlie’s waist both girls falling backwards against the window of the truck.  
  
“Ella!” she slapped the glass. “GO!”  
  
Braking hard to loosen the car, Ella switched lanes and floored it. Taylor shut her eyes, gripping onto Karlie as they sped away from the doomed vehicle, wind whipping their faces.  
  
Then with a deafening explosion, the car blew up behind them, the night briefly lit up in a fiery yellow, debris falling in chunks around them as they drove.  
  
Risking a look, Taylor leaned over the side of the truck to see the line of police cars coming to a halt behind the flaming wreckage, ending their chase.  
  
They’d made it.  
  
Grinning at the sound of her girls cheering, she sent a quick thumbs-up to Ella before turning her attention to the woman in her arms.  
  
“Hey,” she said, squeezing Karlie’s shoulder. The green-eyed woman looked tiredly up at her, blinking owlishly through the pain, but beautifully, magnificently alive. “You alright?”  
  
Karlie smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head against Taylor’s chest.  
  
“Good as gold,” Karlie murmured, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Definitely worth the bullet to the leg.”  
  
“Hey if it’s any consolation, that’s going to make one bad-ass scar,” Taylor grinned as Karlie laughed into her chest.  
  
As Ella drove along the silent highway, the pair looked out over the view it provided; trees frosted white in the moonlight, the golden glimmer of the city lights in the distance.  
  
“It’s all ours for the taking,” Taylor said, leaning her cheek against the other woman’s forehead. “Where do you want to start?”  
  
“Well,” Karlie hummed thoughtfully. “I heard a new jewellery store just opened pretty close to your old hideout. Supposed to have a fantastic array of diamonds.” She looked up at Taylor, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you say?”  
  
“Sounds perfect,” Taylor smiled._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor woke up from her spot on the couch, where she had crashed as soon as they returned from breakfast. Gently shoving Dee off her stomach, she sat up with a moan.  
  
“Well?” Andrea said from the other end of the couch, looking up from her book. “How was it?”  
  
Taylor groaned, still feeling like she was thundering down a highway in a stolen truck.  
  
“Mom, never let me eat pancakes before bed again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! I've had this chapter planned since almost the start of 2017, but I couldn't find any of Taylor's lyrics that were suitable for the chapter title. And then reputation came out and we were blessed with Getaway Car and I practically screamed because it was EXACTLY what I needed. 
> 
> Thank you to you guys once again for reading! This chapter was super fun to write. 
> 
> As always, this Karlie: http://www.celebstills.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/karlie-kloss-photoshoot-for-vogue-magazine-mexico-october-2016-17.jpg  
> With this Taylor: https://scontent-sjc2-1.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/e35/p640x640/13744066_279318189108178_564546790_n.jpg


	9. Your Mark On Me

Unsurprisingly, Taylor owned a lot of notebooks.  
  
Some of them were fairly innocuous; saved for homework or important dates. Most, however, were filled with lyrics. And these were sequestered away in almost every corner of the house, a pen tied to each cover.  
  
It wasn’t rare for Taylor to interrupt dinner to scribble down a line she thought up, or wake up in the middle of the night to blearily write down a vague concept for a song.  
  
But there was one notebook that never left Taylor’s room; a small, unassuming green journal, where she documented as much about her dreams of Karlie as she could remember. And this book she cherished like gold, and kept hidden like treasure. Not even Andrea knew about it.  
  
But the book that helped produce her next dream was one of her songwriting books.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Balancing schoolwork and her budding music career proved challenging. Not impossible, but challenging. Home-schooling certainly wasn’t any easier than public school. Sometimes Andrea would tear Taylor away from her desk and tuck her into bed by force.  
  
One night, instead of dragging Taylor to bed, Andrea gently draped the bed covers over her daughter’s shoulders.  
  
Still focused on her copy of Romeo and Juliet, Taylor unconsciously snuggled into the makeshift cocoon, letting out a yawn.  
  
“Wait a minute,” Taylor glared at her mother. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me feel tired, aren’t you?”  
  
“Maybe,” Andrea smiled innocently. “Is it working?”  
  
“No,” Taylor yawned.  
  
“Oh very convincing,” Andrea chuckled.  
  
“I’m not tired.” From her perch on the bed, Dee let out a loud drawn-out meow.  
  
“Nobody asked you, muffinhead,” Taylor grumbled at the cat.  
  
“No, no I think Dee has a point,” Andrea nodded in agreement. “You should go to bed.”  
  
“Shakespeare won’t study himself. I’ll can keep going,” Taylor muttered.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Andrea said, grabbing another blanket, this time draping it over Taylor’s head.  
  
“Okay, okay, fine! I’m going!”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor’s most used songwriting book was kept beside her bed. She’d often write down a quick reminder before she fell asleep, or she would scribble something in the middle of the night.  
  
As she did every morning, Taylor checked to see if she had written anything overnight. And that morning, she blinked in surprise at the note she had left herself.  
  
_“Yo Billy Shakes, your ending fucking sucks dude.”_  
  
Taylor ran a hand down her face. She’d been studying way too hard. Who knew why she wrote that in her songwriting book of all things. Sure Romeo and Juliet was far from satisfactory, but it wasn’t as though she could change the ending.  
  
Wait.  
  
Frantically turning to a fresh page, Taylor scrabbled for a pen and began to write.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor spent the next few hours writing, only pausing to make herself a plate of toast until finally, she brushed the crumbs off her book, reading through what she had written with a satisfied nod.  
  
Was this song partly influenced by a dream about a certain blonde knight from when she was thirteen? Maybe. But no one needed to know that. This one was going to be great. She could feel it.  
  
Closing her book, Taylor noticed how much ink had smudged her hands during her writing frenzy. She smiled to herself, clicking her pen open to doodle a tiny flower around one of the blotches.  
  
No sooner had she finished drawing than her stomach suddenly dropped, her vision blurring and sharpening in quick succession, her smudged hand reappearing with a myriad of intricate black designs covering her fingers.  
  
Taylor blinked hard, and suddenly her hand was back, patterns gone, just her own ink smudges and doodled flower left in their place.  
  
Well that was weird.  
  
She couldn’t tell if that was a fragment of a new dream or not. There was no indication that Karlie had anything to do with those designs on her hands. And there was no way of knowing until she fell asleep that night.  
  
Taylor sighed in resignation, leaning over her bed and picking up her guitar.  
  
This was going to be a long day.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Taylor let her head fall against the table with a soft **clunk**. She was bored out of her skull.  
  
Moving from behind the front desk, she stepped outside, glaring critically at the sign hanging above the storefront, arms akimbo.  
  
“Swift’s Tattoo Parlour,” the sign read in proud uniform lettering. Yet despite the impressive artwork, the store had remained dead quiet all day. She hated days like this. Maybe she just needed a bigger sign.  
  
“Those are beautiful,” a voice beside her said.  
  
Standing next to her was a woman with cropped, bleach-blonde hair, wearing faded blue overalls over a white shirt, green eyes looking at her intently.  
  
And suddenly, any form of eloquence vanished from Taylor’s brain.  
  
“Thanks!” she said, probably a little too loudly. “Uh, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but thanks!”  
  
As she was mentally kicking herself, the other woman, blessedly, let out a chuckle.  
  
“Those music notes,” she said, pointing to Taylor’s arm, where lines of musical notation spiralled from her elbow down to her wrist. “They’re really cool.”  
  
“Thank you,” Taylor repeated, this time with a genuine smile.  
  
“Did you get them done here?” The woman asked, pointing to the store.  
  
“I guess you could say that. I did them myself,” she said, apprehensive. A tattoo artist wasn’t the most conventional occupation for a woman. She had certainly faced her share of condescending remarks regarding her job.  
  
But the blonde-haired beauty in front of her just stared open-mouthed, eyes shining.  
  
“You did that by yourself? All of them?” She gestured widely to the rest of Taylor’s body, almost every patch of skin covered in her trademark monochrome ink.  
  
“I did,” Taylor smiled proudly  
  
“Wait,” The woman’s glanced at the store’s sign, pieces falling into place. “Wait a minute, is this place yours?”  
  
“It is,” Taylor chuckled, holding out her hand, “Taylor Swift, tattoo artist, pleasure to meet you,” she said in a haughty accent.  
  
“Karlie Kloss,” she said, giving Taylor’s hand a firm shake. “Florist. And the pleasure is all mine.”  
  
“Florist,” Taylor echoed. “I don’t know of any flower shops nearby?” she queried.  
  
“Well, yeah,” Karlie pointed over her shoulder to a truck parked outside the next shop over. “I’m just moving in now.”  
  
“You’re the one who bought the place next door?!”  
  
“I am! It’ll be the best flower shop in New York, just you wait.”  
  
“I don’t doubt that,” Taylor grinned. She was elated. This gorgeous girl was working just a few feet from her store!  
  
“Hey do you need any help moving in?” she asked.  
  
“Oh, are you sure? I’d hate to drag you away from work.”  
  
“No big deal. It’s not exactly rush hour in there,” she jerked a thumb at her empty store.  
  
Karlie chuckled. “Well if it’s not too much trouble, I’d love some help.”  
  
Internally, Taylor was practically yodelling with joy, her stomach performing backflips. Maybe the day wouldn’t be so boring after all.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“So why the music notes?” Karlie asked as she wandered around the kitchen. The two girls had spent the rest of the afternoon carrying Karlie’s stuff into the small apartment above the store.  
  
“It’s a lullaby my mom used to sing to me every night as a kid. I started this just after she died.” Taylor rolled up the sleeve of her jacket to expose the tattoo.  
  
“Oh I’m sorry,” Karlie frowned, passing Taylor a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a cookie.  
  
“Don’t be,” Taylor said lightly, taking a sip. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Trying to diffuse the sudden tension, she hastily took a bite of cookie.  
  
“Hoh muh gawf,” she moaned, mouth full. “This is so good! Are you sure you shouldn’t be opening up a bakery instead?” she took another bite.  
  
Karlie laughed, leaning over the countertop to study Taylor’s arms as the sleeves of her jacket slipped up while she ate.  
  
“You know, I’ve always kinda wanted to get a tattoo.”  
  
“Really? What’s stopping you?”  
  
“I don’t know what I’d get,” Karlie admitted. “They’re meant to have some sort of deep personal meaning, right?”  
  
Taylor raised an eyebrow, slipping her left arm out of her jacket.  
  
“These ones,” she said, poking the music notes. “They help make sure I never forget my Mom, or how happy she made me as a kid.”  
  
Twisting to give Karlie a better view, she pointed to a simple lineart of the New York skyline adorning her shoulder.  
  
“Got this one just after I moved to New York. Reminds me how home can be anywhere you make it. And this,” she pointed to a small outline of a cat on her bicep, pausing for effect.  
  
“Yeah?” Karlie encouraged, curious.  
  
“This is because cats are too damn cute and I just wanted a cat tattoo.” Taylor grinned as Karlie burst out laughing at the unexpected answer.  
  
“Tattoos don’t always have to be really metaphorical, symbolic, or anything. They’re allowed to just be pretty or cute or funny. If they’re important to you and they make you happy, that’s what makes them special. I don’t know, I’m rambling,” she concluded, embarrassed. Then she looked up to see Karlie smiling at her, eyes warm and understanding.  
  
“I like your rambling,” Karlie said. “You really love your job. Makes me happy.”  
  
“Oh,” Taylor was thrown off-guard at the sincerity in Karlie’s voice. “Thanks. I could say the same, seeing you with all those flowers.”  
  
“Yeah,” Karlie giggled, eyes suddenly going wide. “Oh! Hold on! Wait right there! Don’t move!” she waved her hands at Taylor as she ran downstairs.  
  
Taylor stared at the space Karlie had just occupied, a fluttering feeling in her gut that only intensified as the florist returned.  
  
“I know you usually give housewarming gifts to the person moving in,” Karlie handed her a hastily-made bouquet, “but hey, I’m feeling a little rebellious.”  
  
Taylor gently took the flowers, fingers drifting over the yellow petals. Well goddamn, if her stomach had butterflies before, now it felt like it was doing gymnastics.  
  
“Sunflowers are mostly associated with happiness and positivity, but Victorians used them as a sign of gratitude. Though in China they’re used more for good luck and prosperity,” Karlie explained.  
  
“They’re beautiful,” Taylor said. “Thank you.”  
  
“Ah don’t mention it,” Karlie said, rubbing the back of her neck. Taylor could have sworn she saw a faint blush colour her cheeks.  
  
“Well,” Taylor said, hopping off the bar stool. “I’d better get back to work.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Karlie followed her down the stairs. “And hey, if I ever decide to get a tattoo, can I hit you up?”  
  
“Absolutely.” Taylor smiled.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The first few times Taylor journeyed next door to spend time with Karlie, she told herself it was out of politeness; making sure the other woman was settling in alright, checking if she needed any help.  
  
It was simple courtesy, she justified, when she began showing Karlie around the neighbourhood, taking her to the best cafes and bakeries. She was just making sure Karlie felt at home, it was all part of the moving in process.  
  
After her sunflowers wilted, Taylor insisted that buying a few flowers here and there was just her way of giving Karlie’s business a boost.  
  
And after her once-bare tattoo parlour was overflowing with flowers, spending time with the girl next door had simply become a habit. And one that Taylor found she did not mind in the slightest.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“So do you think you need any more flowers?”  
  
“Shut up Sel,” Taylor muttered, adjusting her newest blooms by the window.  
  
“Remind me again why you got these?” Selena asked, looking at Taylor from across the table.  
  
“Karlie thought they’d be good for business. Daffodils help with creativity and inspiration.”  
  
“Right,” Selena raised a critical eyebrow.  
  
“What?”  
  
“How long have you known this girl?”  
  
“A month or so. Why?” Taylor asked, sitting across from her friend.  
  
“Okay, so in that month, how many days have you talked to her at least once?”  
  
“Uhhhh. All of them?” Selena leaned back in stunned silence. “Sel why are you looking at me like that?”  
  
“Does she like coffee or tea?” her friend suddenly asked.  
  
“Coffee,” Taylor answered, instantly beginning to ramble. “She doesn’t mind tea, but she insists that coffee is the stuff of gods. She makes the BEST hot chocolate though. And she loves baking. She sometimes stays up until like, 2 am baking cookies.”  
  
“What’s her favourite flower?”  
  
“She doesn’t have one. She says there are too many beautiful ones for her to show favouritism. But she knows the names and meanings of pretty much every flower ever. She’s crazy smart like that. And she rambles when she talks about them and always blushes afterwards, as if she thinks I mind. Which I don’t, by the way. It’s adorable.”  
  
“Taylor.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re in love.”  
  
“WHAT? No, who, I… what?! That’s stupid. Karlie and I are just friends.”  
  
“Taylor.” Selena deadpanned.  
  
“We are!” Taylor insisted. “We just have fun together, and we have similar interests, and a lot of our time is spent with each other, and all the time in between I’m constantly thinking of when I can see her again, but that’s it. That’s not grounds for dating.”  
  
Selena just stared at her.  
  
“Oh who am I kidding Sel? I’m fucking head over heels for her,” Taylor slumped down in the chair in front of the counter.  
  
“So what are you going to do about it?” Selena fixed her with a hard stare.  
  
“Nothing?” Taylor ventured.  
  
“Incorrect.”  
  
“Repress my feelings?”  
  
“Wrong.”  
  
“Straight up tell her?”  
  
“Oh god no. Not yet. Try again.”  
  
“Try and drop as many hints as possible to see if she’s into girls as well?”  
  
Selena clapped her hands together. “Bingo.”  
  
“God,” Taylor held her head in her hands. “How do I even start telling her?”  
  
“Well considering you bought half her store’s inventory,” Selena examined the closest bunch of flowers, “I’d say you’re off to a pretty good start.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was extremely careful about how she acted around Karlie after that. She had a newfound sensitivity to every signal she was giving off, afraid that she would slip up and say something stupid. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her new friend.  
  
All of that seemed to peak one day when in a slight role reversal, Karlie waltzed into Taylor’s store a few minutes before closing time, slapping her hands down on the front counter.  
  
“I’ve finally decided what I want.”  
  
Taylor mentally backtracked over their recent conversations. “Yeah, no, you lost me. What are you talking about?”  
  
“My tattoo, silly.” Karlie laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?”  
  
“Oh. Oh! Right!” Taylor scrambled ungracefully from her chair. “Of course! What do you have in mind?”  
  
“I want a snake.”  
  
Taylor froze, mouth slightly open in a crooked smile. “You want a snake tattoo?”  
  
“Yeah.” Karlie said, her puzzled frown deepening as Taylor began to roll up the leg of her shorts.  
  
“Taylor, not that your legs aren’t incredible but what are you-” Karlie cut herself off, as Taylor exposed her inked leg.  
  
Taylor’s own snake tattoo was nestled comfortably on her thigh, winding its way through a cluster of crystals as it eyed the outside world.  
  
“Oh,” Karlie breathed, kneeling down beside Taylor, resting a hand on her leg, fingers ghosting over the design. Taylor supressed a shiver.  
  
“Tay this is beautiful,” Karlie grinned up at her. “Why a snake?”  
  
“Personal growth, I guess. I like the idea that you have the power to shed your skin, choose to be a brand new person, if you want to.” Taylor took a deep breath.  
  
“I got this after I found out I don’t like boys the way most people want me to,” she hurried, eyes glued to the floor, praying she didn’t just fuck up one of her best friendships.  
  
There was a beat of silence before she felt a hand gently circle her wrist.  
  
“Me too.” Taylor’s eyes snapped to Karlie’s, who gave a small shrug. “Kissing boys isn’t for me either.”  
  
Taylor’s heart rate catapulted into the stratosphere.  
  
“You…girls?” she stammered, heat rising to her cheeks. She felt dizzy.  
  
“Girls.” Karlie nodded.  
  
As the pair locked eyes, Taylor felt something beat between them, a connection that didn’t need voice, but spoke of a lifetime of shared experiences.  
  
“Good. Girls are good.” Taylor managed, heart hammering against her ribcage. Chuckling, Karlie examined Taylor’s leg, still kneeling beside her.  
  
“I really do like this Taylor,” she traced the snake’s outline. “But…”  
  
“But you don’t want us to match,” Taylor finished. “That’s okay. What do you want different?”  
  
“Well,” Karlie’s fingers trailed down her leg, causing Taylor to suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I want the shading to be like yours. I want mine to be more…linear, I guess? And I want it on my arm.”  
  
“Got it,” Taylor said, mapping a design in her head.  
  
“And I like the idea of the crystals, but can you do something similar with flowers? Me being a florist and all?” Karlie asked, laying her hand flat against the side of Taylor’s thigh.  
  
Taylor could only nod, eyes glancing skyward as she fought down an involuntary quiver. Karlie suddenly seemed to sense her friend’s suffering, and stood, grabbing both of her hands.  
  
“Taylor?” she said with a fond smile.  
  
“Mm-hmm?” Taylor said, lips pressed tightly together, eyes trained on the ceiling.  
  
“Breathe,” Karlie laughed.  
  
“Yeah, yep, breathing, got it,” Taylor sighed out in a rush.  
  
Stepping away, she was surprised when Karlie didn’t release her hands, moving forward to match her own backwards pace. Taylor stopped, blush burning to the tips of her ears. She disentangled their hands and inched backwards.  
  
“Um,” she stuttered. “I- I’m gonna… you wait there I- I’ll just draw up a design and we… you can… yeah we’ll go from there I’ll be right back don’t go anywhere thanks.”  
  
With that, she ducked inside the back room, immediately pressing herself out of sight against the wall adjacent to the door.  
  
Pressing her hands against her mouth, Taylor felt herself smiling against her palms, barely supressing a disbelieving laugh. Karlie liked girls, she thought as tears of joy gathered in her eyes. Karlie was like her.  
  
Little did she know that a single wall away, Karlie was crouched in a position that mirrored hers, holding her head in her hands as she blushed as red as a rose.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“So why cosmos flowers? I’ve never even heard of them before you showed me,” Taylor asked as she bent over Karlie’s arm.  
  
“Ow!” Karlie yelped as the needle entered her skin once more. “They, ow, have a, OW, special meaning, ouch, but I’m not telling you. It’s a secret.”  
  
“Alright. I can respect that.” Taylor said, preparing a new rosy-coloured ink. “I have to say, it’s really nice working with colour again. I haven’t for a while.”  
  
“Yeah, ow. None of your tattoos that you’ve shown me are in colour. Ow! Christ! Why’s that?”  
  
“Ah,” Taylor said mysteriously, setting down her tools and rolling up her right sleeve. “There’s a reason for that.”  
  
Karlie’s eyes widened at the bare patch of skin on Taylor’s forearm, bordered by a set of lines circling her wrist and elbow. The florist stood so she could hold Taylor’s arm, marvelling at the contrast of unmarked skin against the ink.  
  
“I’m saving this spot for something really, really special. This one will be in colour.” Taylor explained.  
  
“That’s really cool,” Karlie said, face scrunched up in pain. “Taylor please tell me you’re almost done?”  
  
“Yep,” Taylor set town her tools.  
  
“Wait, what?” Karlie looked up in surprise.  
  
“I’m done,” Taylor laughed, snapping off her gloves. “Take a look.”  
  
Karlie’s skin now housed a pair of snakes entangled delicately up and down her forearm, one a bright pink, one speckled with gold flowers.  
  
“Taylor…” Karlie breathed as she stared at her arm.  
  
“Do you like it?” Taylor asked nervously. “Because honestly I have been so absurdly nervous about someone-”  
  
The florist lunged forward, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.  
  
“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Thank you.”  
  
In between wondering how Karlie had so much upper body strength, Taylor felt herself melting into the embrace. Maybe it was how personal the circumstances were, or her newfound knowledge that her feelings might not be completely unrequited, one thought ran through Taylor’s mind.  
  
She didn’t want Karlie like a best friend.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The next few months were some of the loneliest Taylor ever knew.  
  
Karlie might as well have been on a different planet. Both of them remained in each other’s orbit, but to Taylor it seemed they were never destined to exist together the way she so desperately wanted.  
  
And she hated it. She hated how seeing Karlie was the highlight of her day, even though every greeting, conversation, and goodbye only served to sharpen the pain and isolation she felt. And yet she kept coming back for more.  
  
More than once, Taylor had lingered outside the flower shop, working up the courage to tell Karlie how she felt. And every time, she would push open the door, Karlie would flash her a smile, and all that daring would drain away. It wasn’t until Karlie woke her up in the dead of night that things changed.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
After Taylor was jolted awake by a handful of gravel pattering against her window, she crept downstairs to see Karlie through the glass of the store’s front door. Hair tousled and eyes puffy from sleep, she opened the door.  
  
“Karlie?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong? It’s so late.”  
  
“Actually, it’s super early!” Karlie said cheerfully. “Come on.” Taking Taylor’s hand, she led her back to the flower shop, taking her up the stairs to her apartment.  
  
“Wait, what are we doing?” she asked as Karlie slid open her bedroom window.  
  
“You’ll see,” Karlie climbed outside, landing lightly on the fire escape. Curious, Taylor followed as Karlie began to climb towards the roof. And when Taylor crested the wall of the building, her eyes widened in delight, just as her stomach sunk with nerves.  
  
In the middle of the roof lay a pile of several blankets, framed by a bunch of pillows and an old wooden chest, assumedly for storing everything.  
  
“Karlie, how…” Taylor trailed off.  
  
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately,” Karlie waved her question off. “One night I came up here, spent the night just watching the stars.” With a sigh, she flopped against the blankets, head nestled against a pillow as she turned to look at Taylor.  
  
“You’re welcome to join.”  
  
Taylor’s stomach did a backflip. It had been doing that a lot lately.  
  
“Um…okay.” Gingerly lying back, stiff as a board, she made sure to leave a good few inches between them.  
  
“Did you wake me up just to make me sleep up here?” She frowned at Karlie.  
  
“No, silly,” Karlie laughed pointing upwards. “I brought you up here to look at that.”  
  
Taylor followed Karlie’s finger, and beheld the dusting of stars scattered across the night sky. All her years living in the city and she had never seen them shine that way, above the glow and hum of the busy streets. Up here it truly felt like the pair were alone.  
  
She shivered, and Karlie immediately noticed.  
  
“Cold?”  
  
“Maybe,” Taylor said. She hadn’t thought to bring a jacket, let alone change out of her pyjamas, in her haste to follow Karlie.  
  
“Here,” Karlie scooted closer, wrapping her arms around Taylor and pulling her flush against her body. She immediately stiffened, trying desperately to pretend this wasn’t something she had dreamed of happening for weeks.  
  
“Better?” Karlie asked as she rested her head against Taylor’s chest.  
  
“Karlie,” Taylor said.  
  
“Because you sure feel cold. Your feet are like ice.”  
  
“Karlie, I think…”  
  
“You never wear socks. Why have I never seen you wearing socks?”  
  
“Karlie, I think I’m…”  
  
“Honestly, it’s a good thing you have me, otherwise you’d be dying of hypothermia right now and I’d have to-”  
  
“...Completely in love with you.”  
  
Taylor knew the world didn’t end when she said that. The Earth didn’t stop spinning, people didn’t freeze where they stood. Nothing significant happened to mark the fact that her entire world shattered when she finally said those words.  
  
Except Karlie was staring at her, silent as a grave. And Karlie was never quiet.  
  
“What did you say?” she whispered.  
  
Taylor sighed shakily, throat tightening as she sat up, dislodging Karlie.  
  
“I said I’m in love with you,” she said, everything she had been bottling up spilling out in a big mess. “I’ve tried not to be, I really have. But then you go and do things like wake me up at some ungodly hour to look at the stars, and I can’t not be in love with you. And I know you don’t feel the same way, but you deserve to know.”  
  
“You deserve everything because you’re super funny and ridiculously smart and beautiful and your nose scrunches up when you talk about flowers. And honestly, every minute I’m not with you? I just spend them thinking about ways to make you happy. And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined that, and I understand if you never want to see me again. That’s all I wanted to say. I’m going to go now.”  
  
Standing up, Taylor made her way back to the fire escape, not daring to look back in case Karlie saw the tears that were tracking down her face.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Crawling into bed, Taylor pulled the covers over her head. She decided that was a perfectly valid place to stay until the world ended. Or at least until she found another place to stay. God knows she wouldn’t be able to live next door to Karlie after what just happened.  
  
Stupid. How stupid was she? Thinking that she ever had a chance with the most perfect girl in the universe. Stupid.  
  
Karlie would forget her, that much Taylor was certain. Karlie’s life would continue, Taylor would fade from her memory, and she would be happy.  
  
And Taylor? Taylor felt like she was dying. She knew she wasn’t, but this level of physical and emotional pain surely had to be pretty close.  
  
When she woke up again it was to a pounding in her head, which she realised was actually someone pounding on the door of her bedroom.  
  
Maybe it was an axe murderer, she thought as crawled out of bed. She’d certainly welcome an axe murderer in her house after the night she just had. But of course, it wasn’t.  
  
It was Karlie.  
  
Karlie, whose eyes were puffy and red, and who looked absolutely furious.  
  
“Hi,” she managed.  
  
“Taylor,” Karlie growled.  
  
“You’re mad,” Taylor said dumbly.  
  
“Yes I’m mad,” Karlie marched into the room, slamming the door closed.  
  
Taylor just nodded. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  
  
“Stop it,” Karlie snapped. “Do you want to know why I’m angry? I’m angry because you LEFT. You tell me you love me, say all those wonderful things, and then you leave?! Without letting me say anything?”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Taylor repeated, eyes squeezed shut, head bowed. She deserved this. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut.”  
  
Karlie let out a groan of frustration, grabbing Taylor’s hands.  
  
“Taylor! For fuck’s sake I’m trying to tell you that I love you!”  
  
Taylor’s eyes were welded shut. There was no way she could have heard that properly. It was impossible. And then a pair of hands cupped her jaw, gently guiding her to look at the eyes that had haunted her thoughts for months.  
  
“Taylor,” Karlie said, much softer. “I love you.”  
  
Somehow she found her voice, head still reeling. “You do?”  
  
“Yes,” Karlie gasped, sounding relieved. “I love you. I love how passionate you are about your work. I love how cute you get when you’re flustered. I love how your eyes crinkle up when you smile.”  
  
Karlie’s hands trailed down her arms, taking up their familiar position interlaced with Taylor’s fingers.  
  
“You know why I’ve been having trouble sleeping? Because every night I go to bed and all I can do is think about you and feel sad because you’re not there with me. Because for so long I’ve just wanted to spend my time with you and I haven’t felt myself when I’m alone.”  
  
She laughed. “And you know what? I hate pain. I really do. But I got a goddamn tattoo just so I could spend a few hours looking at your face.” She squeezed Taylor’s hands. “Because I love you.”  
  
And for the first time, without fear, Taylor squeezed her hands back, pulling the taller woman into a hug.  
  
“I love you too,” she murmured against her shoulder. “I love you so much.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor woke up next it was to the tickle of fingers against the nape of her neck. She let out a sleepy smile, knowing Karlie was tracing the tattoo of a tiny cross at the base of her neck that disappeared below her pyjama shirt.  
  
“You haven’t told me about this one yet,” Karlie whispered from across the bed.  
  
“You still haven’t told me the meaning behind yours either,” Taylor countered playfully, rolling over to face her girlfriend.  
  
Karlie extended her arm towards Taylor, the ink of her tattoo gleaming in the morning light. Taylor gently took her wrist and let her fingers play over the intertwined snakes and the golden flowers scattered across their scales.  
  
“Cosmos flowers are often overlooked compared to others like roses or tulips,” Karlie recited, voice wavering slightly. “But they’re used to represent the deepest feelings of love.”  
  
Taylor looked at the other woman in wonder at her admission. “So…the day that you got this, you already knew? That you…”  
  
“I already knew that I loved you, yes,” Karlie finished, leaning over and kissing Taylor sweetly. “I just didn’t know how to say it. Or if you even liked women in that way”  
  
Taylor blushed, burying her face in the pillow as she rolled over, back facing Karlie. Tugging her shirt over her head, she revealed the tattoo that graced her upper back.  
  
The cross marked the top of a cathedral spreading to the edges of her shoulderblades. Though its majestic spires were impressively tall, the foundations it stood on were fractured and split, beyond repair.  
  
“I designed this one after I moved away from home. Mom didn’t mind that I liked girls, but my dad did. Said it went against everything the church stood for, that whole thing. So I figured, if no other church would accept me, I might as well have my own.”  
  
Taylor shuddered as Karlie’s warm hand met her back, thumb brushing over the design.  
  
“That must have felt so liberating,” she murmured thoughtfully.  
  
“It was,” Taylor admitted. “Felt like freedom.”  
  
Karlie nodded, pausing for a while. “I think I want a tattoo like that.”  
  
“Yeah?” Taylor pulled on her shirt before facing Karlie once more. “About feeling free?”  
  
“About freedom, yeah. Being myself, for myself.”  
  
Taylor gave her a proud smile, interlacing their hands. “I think I need a new tattoo as well.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
That afternoon, the pair sat on the roof, the florist’s shirt bunched in her lap as she let her arms and shoulders heal from Taylor’s newest design.  
  
A pair of great wings now spread outwards from the centre of her back, each arching proudly over her shoulders to end in feathered points along the backs of her arms.  
  
And Taylor had finally filled in the blank space on her skin. A radiant yellow sunflower now bloomed against her forearm, made all the more brighter beside the rest of the black designs.  
  
But Taylor had no issues towards the sunny splash of colour. Like the woman who inspired it, she knew that it was now a permanent aspect of her life, and always would be._  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor woke up the next morning, she felt like she couldn’t move, too burdened by an inexplicable sense of loneliness that stole over her body. Dee, seeming to sense her owner’s sadness, crawled over from the end of the bed and took up her usual position resting on Taylor’s stomach.  
  
As she stroked her cat’s fur, Taylor had never felt dumber; she was missing a girl so much that it hurt, but that girl didn’t even exist.  
  
And Taylor was left to wonder how many more times her heart had to be broken whenever she woke up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a woman called Maud Wagner, the first known female tattoo artist in the US. Look her up, she's pretty badass. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> As always, this Karlie with this Taylor
> 
>    
> Taylor's tattoos can be found here:   
> \- Music notes  
> \- New York  
> \- Cat  
> \- Taylor's snake  
> \- Arm bands  
> \- Karlie's snake  
> \- Cathedral  
> \- Karlie's wings  
> \- Sunflower


	10. Through Our Paces

Soon after Taylor turned nineteen, Dee stopped eating.  
  
The first day, she thought nothing of it. But after two days she began to worry. For all her sassy meowing and tendency to sleep on Taylor’s face, it was easy to forget that Dee was thirteen years old.  
  
She spent that day sitting by the food bowl, coaxing Dee as best she could to eat at least a mouthful. But her beloved cat simply lay in her lap, as despondent as Taylor had ever seen her.  
  
After three days with no change, she and Andrea rushed to the vet, hoping for good news that in her heart Taylor knew wouldn’t come.  
  
Within an hour the vet nurse uttered two words that broke Taylor’s heart.  
  
Feline Lymphoma. A kind of cancer found in the white blood cells.  
  
Treatment was possible, if a little more hit and miss because of Dee’s old age. But both Taylor and her mother were determined to do what was best for their cat.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor almost left songwriting entirely over those next months, even though her second album Fearless had been released for a while.  
  
Most of her time was spent cuddling up with Dee, wherever the cat wanted. It seemed her once boisterous pet was content to spend her time in Taylor’s lap, no energy to do much else.  
  
Dee struggled on for a while, and despite the vet’s expectations, she began to improve, if only a little.  
  
But nothing was the same as before. Taylor could hear it in Dee’s groan whenever she lay down, joints rattling. Her hair began to fall out in clumps. She no longer had the strength to jump up to Taylor’s bed, and Taylor would have to lift her up every night to go to sleep.  
  
Despite the barrage of medication and vet appointments, Dee never failed to purr whenever Taylor showed her the slightest bit of affection, just as she always had.  
  
One night, after Taylor had curled up in bed, she moved Dee so she was lying atop her stomach, her cat’s favourite spot to nap. Scratching her behind the ears, Taylor took a deep breath, tears pricking her eyes.  
  
“You’d let me know, right Dee? You’d let me know when you’ve had enough?” She whispered.  
  
Her cat only purred in response.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor woke up the next day, Dee felt cold.  
  
Within fifteen minutes, they were at the vet again, Taylor slumped anxiously in a chair, Andrea rubbing her back comfortingly.  
  
When the vet nurse finally approached them, a grim expression on her face, Taylor knew the day she had been dreading had arrived.  
  
Dee had grown a huge mass in her stomach, stopping her digestion. Surgery was possible, but the vet couldn’t guarantee Dee would survive the operation, nor would it prevent the cancer from spreading.  
  
Taylor made the decision that had plagued her ever since her cat’s diagnosis. Dee didn’t deserve to suffer anymore.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“I’ll give you two a few minutes alone,” the vet said as she closed the door.  
  
With a shaky sigh, Taylor sat beside the table where Dee lay, an IV tube in her leg to receive the injection.  
  
Taylor scratched her behind the ears, in the way that always elicited a purr. But now Dee just closed her eyes, tummy rising and falling softly.  
  
“Well Dee, I guess this is it huh?” Taylor’s voice broke as she nodded to herself. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to hurt at all. It’ll just be like falling asleep.”  
  
Taylor lay her head down next to her beloved cat’s, the pair of them nose to nose.  
  
“I’m going to miss you,” she choked out. “I’m going to miss you so much. It’s not going to be the same waking up without you on my face. You were always awful at sharing a bed.”  
  
Taylor was fully crying by now, face scrunched up as ugly tears leaked from her eyes. Only then did Dee move, tilting her head up to slowly lick Taylor’s cheeks. She giggled, gently stroking the orange smudge on her cat’s nose.  
  
“But you’re not an awful cat. Far from it, you’re a great cat. You’re a great cat, Dee. I hope you understand that. I’ll never forget you, I promise.” Taylor dissolved into sobs as she pressed her own face against Dee’s.  
  
“I love you, you old muffinhead.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_Grey clouds scudded across a sky suffocated with the scent of gunpowder and blood. An oppressive silence reigned over the barracks, as Taylor trudged down the mud-caked path.  
  
“So,” Abigail said beside her. “What do you think they have in store for us today?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Taylor replied, “I’m hoping for another music act.”  
  
“Whatever it is, it’d better be entertaining. Morale around here is pretty low.”  
  
“Yeah well, after four years of war, I don’t think you can blame them,” Taylor said.  
  
As they approached the crowd surrounding the makeshift stage, the pair wove their way through, aiming for the small group of women near the front.  
  
“There you are,” Martha said. “What took you girls so long?”  
  
“She did,” Taylor jerked her thumb at Abigail.  
  
“Unsurprising,” Ruby muttered from beside Martha. “Incapable of arriving on time.”  
  
“Hey, I slept in one time! You can’t hold that against me forever,” Abigail said indignantly.  
  
“Shh, it’s starting,” Cara flapped her hands at them.  
  
Endless months fighting a war didn’t do wonders for a person’s mental health. When there was a break in the fighting, the barracks would often organise a show of sorts. To keep spirits high.  
  
Sometimes the “entertainment” for the day completely missed its mark. But sometimes they would be treated to some donated film reels, or a small music band, which were always popular.  
  
So there was a collective sigh when the colonel announced that the morning’s entertainment would be a fashion show of all things, several companies seeking to promote their products within the military.  
  
Out strutted a bunch of men in an array of different suits. There was a smattering applause from some of the woman, Abigail included, that had her friends rolling their eyes. Though, Taylor made a mental note to buy herself a suit once she returned home.  
  
Parades of models walked out and returned backstage. Taylor found herself at the receiving end of more than a few coy smiles and winks from the men on stage. She shook her head. Men.  
  
She was bored. And as Ruby yawned and Cara gazed up at the sky, she knew she wasn’t alone.  
  
Until the last group of models stepped out. Taylor’s stomach swooped.  
  
A line of women were stepping onto the stage. And the girl striding in front of the group had her eyes zeroed in on Taylor.  
  
Her friends recognised the model a split-second after she did. Ruby and Cara immediately started clapping her on the back, Abigail giving her a choking side-hug. But Taylor could only keep her eyes locked on the other woman, allowing herself a disbelieving smile.  
  
Most of the women remained centre stage, lapping up the attention. But the woman who held Taylor’s gaze made a beeline to their side of the stage.  
  
Stopping in front of Taylor on the raised platform, head held high, a shit-eating grin on her face, was Karlie.  
  
She vaguely heard the announcer sprout some bullshit about what each model was wearing. But as Karlie lowered herself to a sitting position with deliberate slowness, Taylor could barely focus on anything else.  
  
As Taylor stepped closer to the stage, she felt more than saw her friends form a protective barrier around the pair, blocking anyone else’s view of their interaction.  
  
Taylor placed her hand reverently on Karlie’s knee, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips. Her initial shock wearing off, she began to trail her hand up and down Karlie’s leg, causing her eyelids to flutter appreciatively.  
  
Karlie looked as though she wanted nothing more than to jump down from her perch into Taylor’s arms. Instead she gripped Taylor’s hand with her own, lowering her head just as Taylor tilted hers upwards, foreheads touching, creating a circle of space that was just theirs.  
  
Being so close was dangerous in public, both girls knew. But after so long without seeing each other, no force on Earth, war be damned, could have stopped them from having that moment.  
  
The other models began to file off stage, and Karlie had to follow. As she strode away, Karlie stole a glance over her shoulder. Curling her fingers in a clear gesture of “follow me,” she disappeared down the steps of the stage.  
  
Taylor took a shuddering breath, bringing herself back from whatever heaven she had temporarily visited.  
  
“I have to go backstage,” she said frankly, turning to her friends.  
  
“Damn right you do!” Cara grinned.  
  
“Did you two even say anything to each other just then?” Abigail asked.  
  
“Didn’t have to,” Taylor grinned.  
  
As she wove her way through the crowd, the last sound she heard before she took off running was Ruby’s voice whooping “Go get it Swift!”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
It didn’t take her long to sneak backstage. The area consisted a row of makeshift cubicles, partitioned off with large sheets of canvas on each side, in which visiting acts could prepare.  
  
It took Taylor even less time to locate Karlie, the model busy loosening her hair from its tight braid. Catching Taylor’s eye, she smirked, slinking into her cubicle.  
  
Just as she always had, Taylor followed her.  
  
Fastening the canvas behind her, she turned in time for Karlie to launch into her arms, legs wrapping around her waist. Despite being the shorter of the two, Taylor caught her with ease. Pilot or not, you didn’t get into the army with poor upper body strength.  
  
Karlie guided her closer with a hand on her jaw, pulling her in for a desperate kiss. And Taylor was all too happy to comply, lips moving in unison with her partner’s in a familiar dance.  
  
Karlie was the first to pull back with a breathy laugh. Detangling her legs, she sank down into a hug. Taylor sighed as she felt long fingers anchor into her back, and she returned the embrace just as fiercely.  
  
“Missed you,” Karlie mumbled against her neck.  
  
“Missed you too,” Taylor whispered, face muffled in Karlie’s shoulder. It had been a too long since she had been able to do this, to feel and hold and hear Karlie against her.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she asked, holding Karlie at arm’s distance. “You didn’t mention any visits in your letters.”  
  
“I wanted to surprise you,” Karlie smiled. And God, had Taylor missed that smile. “The company wants us to tour around here, so I’m staying here for a few weeks!”  
  
“A few weeks,” Taylor repeated dreamily, gazing fondly at the taller girl.  
  
“Yes,” Karlie laughed, taking Taylor’s hands.  
  
“You know,” she said, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. “All the guests here get a bedroom to ourselves. If you want, maybe we could, you know, uh,” she stuttered.  
  
Taylor cut off Karlie’s stammering with a quick kiss.  
  
“I’d love that,” Taylor assured her, leaning in so her lips brushed Karlie’s ear. “Besides, we have a lot to catch up on.” She grinned as she felt the other woman shiver. Tonight was going to be fun.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor entered the mess hall for breakfast the next morning, they were met with the knowing smiles of their friends.  
  
“Have a nice night you two?” Ruby smirked.  
  
“You could say that,” Karlie smiled as she sat down beside the mechanic. “Good to see you girls again.”  
  
“Likewise,” Cara said, shovelling her mouth full of porridge.  
  
“We all missed you,” Abigail piped up. “Some more than others though.”  
  
“You should have seen Taylor’s face when you came onstage yesterday. I think I saw her drool,” Ruby added.  
  
“Hey!” Taylor protested.  
  
“Thanks,” Karlie giggled. “Been planning that for weeks, actually. Taylor had no idea.”  
  
“You two are so lucky,” Cara said. “I wish I could visit my girlfriend.”  
  
“Me too,” Ruby looked down sadly.  
  
Taylor and Karlie subtly found each other’s hands under the table, squeezing three times in their usual sign of comfort, acknowledging how fortunate they were. So many loved ones didn’t see each other for months because of the war, years even.  
  
“Martha,” Cara leaned over to the remaining girl in their group, shaking her shoulder. “Martha! Wake up sleepyhead.”  
  
Martha snorted awake, head rising from the table.  
  
“You alright sunshine?” Ruby asked in concern.  
  
“Yeah,” Martha sighed. “These night-shifts are getting to me though.” She frowned as she regarded her empty coffee mug. Martha worked as a nurse in the barracks. Needless to say, she had the heaviest workload of the group.  
  
“Here,” Cara slid her full mug over. “Have mine as well.”  
  
“You sure Cara?” That’s your coffee ration,” Martha said.  
  
“I’m sure. You need it more than I do.” Cara returned to her empty bowl, having already scarfed down her porridge. As Martha gratefully accepted the fresh mug, Karlie slid over the remnants of her own breakfast.  
  
“Cara, have the rest of mine. Guests get bigger meals anyway, and you’ve got a full day of work.”  
  
Cara leaned over and hugged the taller girl enthusiastically. Taylor watched on, reminded again of why she was so in love with the model.  
  
“Swift!” The girls turned as a man approached their table.  
  
“Sir?” Taylor asked.  
  
“The colonel wants to see you. Immediately.”  
  
Taylor frowned as she stood from her seat. “I guess I’ll see you girls later,” she said to her friends.  
  
“Sure thing,” Ruby said, suspicious.  
  
As Taylor was led out of the mess hall she cast one last look back at the table. Karlie’s slightly fearful look haunted her all the way to the colonel’s office.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The colonel of their barracks wasn’t a friendly person at the best of times. But as Taylor entered the room, the look on his face was enough to wilt flowers.  
  
“You wanted to see me sir?” Taylor asked, gingerly sitting down before his desk.  
  
“Yes I did, Swift.” The colonel sat with elbows propped on the desk, fingers steepled together. “I trust you enjoyed yesterday’s entertainment?”  
  
“Very much sir,” Taylor responded cautiously. Surely the colonel hadn’t called her in for a private meeting to talk about that. Unless…  
  
“I’m glad,” the colonel said. “Although I’ve heard that perhaps you enjoyed it a bit too much. Am I to understand that you shared a room with one of the models last night?”  
  
Ah. That was it. Time to play the best friend card.  
  
“Yes sir,” Taylor said. “She’s an old friend. We hadn’t seen each other since the war began. We were just catching up.”  
  
“Mmm.” The colonel didn’t sound convinced. “What if I told you I have an eyewitness claiming he saw you and Miss Kloss in a rather…intimate act?”  
  
Taylor’s blood ran cold. Someone must have spotted them on their way back to Karlie’s room last night. Holding hands, kissing, who knew what else.  
  
Time for option two: straight up lying.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean sir,” she lied. “You know how close women can be. And Karlie’s my best friend, of course we’d be affectionate.”  
  
The colonel slapped his hand on the table, causing her to jolt. “Stop pretending! This behaviour is intolerable! It’s nothing short of disgusting! And I shall not stand for it in my barracks!”  
  
The man stood, hands still pressed flat against the table, glaring daggers at her. “These are serious allegations, Swift. Enough to warrant an investigation. Enough to strip you of your pilot licence. Enough to land that so-called friend of yours in jail.”  
  
Taylor felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. She could handle losing her career. But Karlie? She’d rather tear off her own arm than lose Karlie.  
  
“So,” the colonel leaned in, threatening. “What’s it going to be?”  
  
Only one thing to do now. Little did the colonel know that Taylor, along with every other gay person in the camp, had a failsafe if something like this were to happen. Covert meetings were not uncommon, and through them, they had unanimously agreed on a plan of action should things go to shit.  
  
“Might I offer a bargain sir?” she said calmly.  
  
“Bargain?” the man scoffed. “You’re in no position to bargain Swift. Your time as a pilot is over.”  
  
“Maybe. But It’d be a shame to lose so many good soldiers, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“What are you saying?” Now she had his attention.  
  
“I was just thinking, if you go through with your so-called investigation, you’d want a full sweep of everyone in the camp. You couldn’t let even one homosexual person remain here, correct? I imagine your superiors wouldn’t be too happy if you lose almost a third of your men and women.”  
  
“A third?! What are you saying?” the colonel demanded, panic creeping into his voice.  
  
“I’m saying,” Taylor leaned forward, voice threatening. “If you let my secret out, I’ll give away the names of everyone in this place who is like me. You’d have no choice but to turn us all away.”  
  
“So?!” the colonel’s face was red.  
  
“How would your superiors react if you let go of a third of your men? How would they react knowing that for years, you had let this go by unnoticed? What does that say about your ability to lead, sir? What will that do for your career?” She challenged.  
  
Silence rang throughout the office, suffocating. Taylor didn’t back down, eyes boring into the colonel’s. Until finally, he slammed his fists on the table in defeat.  
  
“Damn it!” he pointed accusingly at Taylor. “This isn’t over, Swift. Don’t think you can just come in here and blackmail me to save your own skin. I’ll let it go. But you’d better not cross me again, understand?”  
  
“Perfectly.”  
  
“Good. Now get the hell out of my office.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
The next day, when Taylor approached her plane on the runway, she felt an unshakable sense of foreboding.  
  
That morning, the colonel had announced they were planning an airstrike over a military occupied town close by. Civilians were still present, but apparently, they were of no consequence to them, a statement that made Taylor’s blood boil.  
  
As the colonel had continued, Taylor felt a mounting dread in her stomach. the attack seemed too hasty, too ill-thought out, with nowhere near the usual level of reconnaissance needed on missions like these.  
  
She was struck by how unfair this war was. The lives of so many people, her fellow pilots, the people in that village, the soldiers they were about to fight, all of them balanced on one man’s indifference. A simple few words from the colonel, a movement of a precious few vocal muscles now determined her fate.  
  
But there was nothing to be done. They were to fly out at dusk.  
  
As the colonel made his final decision to launch the planes, Taylor could have sworn that he was staring directly at her.  
  
So when Cara appeared from under her plane, toolbelt hanging from her hips, Taylor made sure to give her an extra hug goodbye.  
  
“Thank you, Cara.”  
  
“Come back safely, okay?” the younger girl wiped her hands clean on her pants.  
  
“I will,” Taylor promised. As Cara walked off, Abigail sauntered up beside Taylor, her own plane parked right beside Taylor’s own.  
  
Slinging an arm around her shoulders, the redhead pressed her forehead comfortingly against Taylor’s temple.  
  
“Ready to fly partner?” She whispered.  
  
Taylor returned the embrace, drawing comfort in the fact that even in war, she would be flying alongside her best friend, just as she always had.  
  
“I’m ready.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor gasped awake, launching into a coughing fit as her lungs rid themselves of the dust.  
  
Where was she? Eyes shut in pain, the only thing she was aware of was the burning of her lungs, and the cold, dusty ground beneath her.  
  
No, not dust, she realised as she breathed through her nose. Ash.  
  
Immediately she was brought back to her senses, the events of the past few hours flooding back.  
  
The mission. Flying out over the village only to be greeted by an entire swarm of enemy planes. An ambush. The deafening roar of gunfire as her fellow pilots engaged in battle.  
  
The drop of bombs over the village from the enemy forces.  
  
Mayhem, destruction, planes and houses burning in the fray.  
  
Her plane getting hit, crash landing...  
  
With a jolt, Taylor hauled herself up only to smack her head against something metallic, causing her to bounce back down.  
  
“Owwwww,” she groaned, cradling her head. Wiping the tears and soot from her face, she took a look at her surroundings.  
  
The metal she had cracked her head against was the wing of her plane. She must have fallen out of the cockpit in the crash-landing, tumbling to a stop under the plane’s wing. But there was something else. Taylor abruptly became aware of how hot it was, why she could only smell ash.  
  
Something was on fire.  
  
Scrambling on her hands and knees, she scrabbled out from under the debris. Chest heaving, she looked back at the wreck, the plane’s tail smoking as the last of its fires burned out.  
  
Well, she wouldn’t be flying that again. She only hoped that Abigail fared better.  
  
Abigail! Her team! Where was she?  
  
Taylor frantically whirled around, trying to find any sign of another crash-site. But there was nothing. Nothing for miles except-  
  
A ragged gasp escaped Taylor’s throat, fresh tears springing to her eyes that had nothing to do with the ash.  
  
Only a few miles from where she had crashed stood the town. The town they had set out to protect.  
  
And it was burning.  
  
Great plumes of black smoke choked the sky, the remaining flames the only colour in the bleak snowy winter night. Nothing had been spared. She could see no reason how anyone could have survived  
  
The mission had failed. Taylor slumped to her knees, a wretched scream of panic and grief tearing itself from her throat.  
  
She had joined the air force to save people; to prevent things like this from happening. And for what? What difference could she possibly make, just one person, in a war that had torn the world apart? What purpose did she have if she couldn’t keep her promises?  
  
Sniffling, Taylor cracked her eyes open in realisation.  
  
No, she did have a purpose. There was a woman who loved her with all her heart. And she was waiting for her.  
  
Shakily rising to her feet, Taylor took stock of herself.  
  
She was covered in a slick layer of sweat from the fire of her landing, dirt speckles of blood dotting her torn uniform from an array of scratches and small cuts. Breathing hurt. She definitely had some broken ribs.  
  
With a sigh, Taylor took her first weary step towards the town.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Sliding down the last snowy back, Taylor found herself amongst a forest of derelict houses, most of them nothing more than a blackened husk.  
  
She couldn’t see anyone as she wandered down the main road, pulling her jacket closer around her, the full winter gale biting her exposed skin.  
  
She knew her team, if anyone was left, would send a search party for survivors, for her. Until then, she was determined to find anyone that remained there.  
  
But her hope was sapped with each building she explored. Most were empty, but some houses still contained its residents, long since dead and burned.  
  
“Hello?” she finally called out, her voice echoing eerily off the groaning wood of the buildings. “Hello? Please, is anyone there?”  
  
Then she heard it. A sound so recognisable and out of place that she immediately began a frantic stumble towards it.  
  
A baby’s cry.  
  
Following the sound over the roar of the snowstorm, she came across a row of partially collapsed buildings. But as she approached, the cries grew weaker, as if the baby was tiring. Or worse.  
  
Just as she found the house it was coming from, the sounds stopped entirely.  
  
“No!” Taylor shoved her way into the house, no more than a skeleton of charred timbers, a decaying blueprint of rooms.  
  
“No, no, no no no,” the words spilled from her lips as she searched each room as fast as she could. “Don’t stop baby! Hang on, I’m almost there. Keep going, please!”  
  
Then she burst into what she assumed was once a bathroom, and jolted to a stop as she spied a figure in the bathtub. A woman, slumped over, fully dressed, a large wooden beam cracked over her back from where it had fallen from the ceiling.  
  
And there, in her arms, was a bundle of blankets.  
  
Taylor let out a cry of relief, dropping heavily to her knees beside the tub and gently prying the bundle out of the woman’s arms.  
  
Heart hammering against her bruised ribs, she pulled back the blankets, fearing the worst.  
  
Staring back at her, lips blue in the cold, but hazel eyes bright, was a baby.  
  
“Yes!” Taylor almost sobbed. Quickly unzipping her jacket, she cradled the baby against her chest, holding them close as she tried to bring some warmth back. And to her relief, the infant began to wiggle at the new source of heat, letting out a soft coo.  
  
“Hi baby,” Taylor cried, relief overwhelming her to the point of tears. “Hi honey. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here. You did so well baby. You made it out, didn’t you?” She gently rocked back and forth. “You survived somehow.”  
  
A glimpse of purple caught her eye, and Taylor tilted her head to examine the baby’s blanket. The once-white fabric was now smudged black with ash and dirt, but in the corner of the knitted fabric was a name embroidered in purple thread.  
  
Claire.  
  
Taylor looked up at the figure in the bathtub. The woman’s eyes were open and glassy, crusted blood caking the side of her face. She had been dead for a while, but Taylor guessed she was the mother. Her final act had been to save her baby, and even in death, her body had protected her child from the cold that would otherwise have killed her.  
  
“Thank you,” Taylor whispered, saddened that there was nothing she could do for her. Well, there was one thing, she thought focusing on baby in her arms.  
  
“Hello Claire,” she cooed, pressing her lips to the infant’s forehead. “Brave, brave girl. It’s alright, you can rest now. I’ll look after you.” Sparing one last glance at the mother, Taylor began to pick her way back through the debris, talking to her new companion.  
  
“My name’s Taylor. If you don’t mind, I’d very much like to take you with me. I think my friends are out looking for me right now. They’ll take us someplace safe and warm. What do you say?”  
  
Claire simply yawned, nose squishing up as she settled deeper into Taylor’s hold.  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Taylor smiled, the movement foreign on her tear-stained face.  
  
No sooner had she passed through the broken doorway of the house than the wind began to pick up, the cold striking her skin like tiny knives. From her spot in Taylor’s jacket, Claire began whimpering.  
  
Filled with a new determination, Taylor marched forward. Snowstorm be damned, they were both getting out of this shit alive.  
  
Suddenly her vision was blinded by a bright light glaring from above. Raising her hand against the glare, she looked up in time to see a plane hovering above her, floodlights on.  
  
“Taylor!”  
  
“Abigail?!”  
  
“You guys! It’s Taylor!” Abigail shouted from her spot in the plane. “Land us somewhere! Taylor! Stay where you are! We’ll get you out!”  
  
Within minutes, the pair were stumbling into a relieved hug, Taylor keeping one arm secure around the baby.  
  
Pulling back, she gave Abigail a quick once-over. Aside from some singed hair and minor cuts, she seemed fine. Taylor let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.  
  
“Never do that again!” Abigail smacked her arm. “You scared the shit out of me! Where have you been?”  
  
“Sorry,” Taylor unzipped her jacket, “I just got a little distracted.”  
  
From her nest in Taylor’s arms, Claire peeked out to stare thoughtfully at the newcomer, and was met with a shrill cry from Abigail.  
  
“Would you look at that,” Abigail marvelled, playfully poking the baby’s nose. “Hi there cutie! How in the world did you survive all of this?”  
  
Taylor quickly relayed her exploits of the past few hours, Abigail’s face growing more crestfallen as she continued.  
  
“Poor thing,” Abigail murmured, leaning over to inspect the baby. “You’re pretty small. I think we could squeeze you aboard.”  
  
Together, they turned and made their way out of the ruins of the town, one extra member added to their team.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor fidgeted with her hands, knees bouncing as she waited in her allocated bed. The soot and dust had been cleaned from her skin, her scrapes patched up, her bruised ribs bound.  
  
The team had been whisked to the medical bay once they landed, and Taylor had all but sprinted to Martha, rambling about how she needed to check if Claire was okay immediately. Now she was watching nervously as Martha bustled around, holding Claire.  
  
There was nothing visibly wrong with the baby, but Taylor had the entire plane ride to conjure up every possible scenario in which Claire somehow didn’t make it through the night.  
  
What if Taylor got to her too late and the cold had already affected her? What if she became sick? Did they even have the supplies to treat an infant? What if-?  
  
“All done,” Martha appeared at Taylor’s bedside. “Aside from being a bit cold, she’s perfectly healthy. Congratulations Taylor. You’ve got yourself a baby girl,” Martha smiled.  
  
Taylor sighed in relief as Martha placed the baby in her outstretched arms, her morbid thoughts quelled. Claire stared out at Taylor from a pile of clean blankets, the blue tinge in her lips gone.  
  
Clean and warm, her attentive hazel eyes darted all over the place, finally settling on Taylor’s smiling face. Seeming to recognise her, the infant immediately settled, fingers splaying.  
  
Taylor marvelled at Claire's tiny hands, running her finger over the small palm. She grinned when Claire immediately gripped it, her perfect hand barely the length of Taylor’s pinkie.  
  
“She’s so little. Any idea how old she is?” she asked Martha.  
  
“I think so. Watch this.” Martha softly pressed a finger to the side of Claire’s mouth, keeping it there. Absentmindedly, the baby opened her mouth, head turning expectantly towards Martha’s finger.  
  
“There you go. That’s called a rooting reflex. It’s for feeding. All babies grow out of it by about six months. My guess is she’s about three months,” Martha explained.  
  
A newfound surge of protectiveness flowed through Taylor. Claire was so young, so new. She was going to need someone to look after her.  
  
“I’m gonna go see if we have any baby formula,” Martha continued. “She must be-”  
  
“MARTHA WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?”  
  
Karlie burst into the medical bay, charging towards the pair even as the other nurses tried to stop her. Taylor, seeing what was about to happen, hurriedly handed Claire off to Martha.  
  
Karlie promptly threw herself into the bed and yanked Taylor into a hug, burying her face into the crook of her neck.  
  
“Karlie,” Taylor felt tears prick her eyes as she wound her arms around the love of her life, bodies slotting together as easily as puzzle pieces.  
  
“You’re alive!” Karlie sobbed, body heaving with the force of her cries. “You’re safe! I was so scared! Cara told me there was an ambush and they hadn’t heard from you for hours and I was so scared I’d never see you again Taylor I thought you were dead!”  
  
“Hey, no need for that. I’m right here. I promised you, didn’t I?” Taylor soothed, rubbing Karlie’s back comfortingly.  
  
Karlie pulled away with a teary smile, hands framing her face as her fingers roamed over the shallow cuts littering Taylor’s cheeks. Eyeing a bruise from where she hit her head, Karlie placed a gentle kiss to her forehead.  
  
“What happened out there?” she asked.  
  
Just as Taylor opened her mouth, Claire let out a soft coo. Karlie’s gaze snapped to where Martha was standing.  
  
And the way her face instantly lit up at the sight of the infant made Taylor fall in love just a little bit more.  
  
“Oh my god!” she whisper-yelled, fingers reaching out to tickle over Claire’s cheeks, eliciting a happy gurgle from the baby. “Hey honey! Who do you belong to?”  
  
“Well, as of a few hours ago…” Martha stepped forward and returning the baby to Taylor’s arms, stepping away to give them some privacy.  
  
Karlie’s mouth dropped open, eyes darting between Taylor’s face and the infant.  
  
“Taylor? Wha-? How?” she stuttered.  
  
Taylor told her everything. From the plane crash, to her search through the village, to Claire ’s cries, and eventually finding her, blanket and all.  
  
“Wow,” Karlie breathed when she was finished, staring at Claire.  
“Can I-?” she gestured with her hands. Taylor happily placed the baby in her hold, heart swelling as Karlie adjusted her against her chest.  
  
“Claire,” she whispered, face glowing with adoration. “So what happens now? She needs somewhere to stay. She needs a home.”  
  
“She does,” Taylor agreed, a yawn escaping her mouth. Karlie gazed at her in concern.  
  
“When was the last time you slept?”  
  
“Um, 24 hours? Give or take?” Taylor mumbled.  
  
Keeping a firm hold on Claire, Karlie reached a hand up to trace her fingers over the arch of Taylor’s cheek, the pilot leaning into the touch.  
  
“Go to sleep Taylor. I’ll watch over both of you,” she whispered.  
  
A heavy wave of fatigue stole over Taylor, amplified by Karlie’s touch. Burrowing down into the thin blankets, she rested her head wearily against Karlie’s leg, looking up at her girlfriend.  
  
The model was leaning against the headboard of the bed, one arm holding Claire with a fierce protectiveness, the other tangled in Taylor’s hair, lightly scratching at her scalp.  
  
As she drifted down to sleep, Taylor thought about how she had always wanted to see Karlie with her own baby.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor woke from a broken sleep to the repetitive, determined sound of a baby feeding. Room coming into focus, she saw Karlie hadn’t moved from her sentinel position beside her. Only now, she had a baby bottle in one hand, and was busy feeding Claire.  
  
“How is she?” Taylor sat up, rubbing her eyes.  
  
“She’s good,” Karlie said, rocking as Claire fed. “Hungry.”  
  
“I’ll bet,” Taylor’s fingers gently ruffled Claire's dark mop of hair, so brown it was almost black.  
  
Bottle finished, Claire let out a tiny burp, eyes drifting around her surroundings once more. Meeting Taylor’s gaze, her hands began to splay, fingers curling and uncurling as she cooed.  
  
“I think she missed you,” Karlie handed the infant over with a laugh.  
  
“Aww, I missed you too baby.” Taylor kissed Claire’s soft cheek, bouncing her gently. Karlie was looking at her with an odd expression.  
  
“What?” she asked.  
  
“I’ve been thinking. Martha came back while you were asleep and told me that unless any living relative is found, Claire will be be sent to an orphanage.”  
  
A chill ran up Taylor’s spine. The thought of her baby crammed in with countless other children, cold, alone, and without a family was almost too much to bear.  
  
Wait. **Her** baby?  
  
“So I was thinking,” Karlie continued, fiddling with the hem of her clothes. “And you can say no, alright? But I was thinking, well, maybe… you found her. Maybe she’s meant to be ours. Our baby.”  
  
Our baby.  
  
Taylor surged forward and pulled Karlie in for a kiss, both of their cheeks soon streaked with tears.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
All too soon, it was time for Karlie to leave.  
  
The morning of the models’ departure was grey and wet, a steady rain having turned the ground to mud. The visitors to the barracks were milling around the entrance, saying goodbye to friends and loading their things into the trucks that would begin their journey home.  
  
Luggage already onboard, Karlie stood holding Claire, the infant’s old baby blanket wrapped warmly around her. In a protective circle around her, stood Taylor and her friends, saying their goodbyes.  
  
Claire had become a point of immense joy and hope within the barracks. Taylor and Karlie would often find themselves surrounded by people from all branches of the army, all wanting to see the baby that miraculously survived everything the war threw at her.  
  
It was no surprise Claire had a long line of people to say goodbye to.  
  
“Bye little guy,” Ruby affectionately poked Claire's nose. “You take care of Karlie for us yeah?” We’ll see you real soon.”  
  
“Bye darling,” Abigail kissed her forehead. “Stay out of trouble.”  
  
“You can get into a bit of trouble if you want to,” Cara interjected, gently playing with Claire’s closed fists. “Just not too much.”  
  
“Keep each other safe, okay?” Martha hugged Karlie. “We’ll be home as soon as we can. I’ll miss you both.”  
  
Then it was just Karlie and Taylor. Taylor stepped forward and cradled her baby’s head in her hand, smiling sadly when Claire immediately turned her face into her palm.  
  
Two days after Claire arrived, administration was able to scrounge together some adoption certificates. Unable to out themselves, Karlie had signed as Claire’s primary carer. Karlie and Claire Kloss were all set to journey back home to New York.  
  
Taylor swallowed the lump rising in her throat. Saying goodbye never got easier. She wanted to say a thousand things to Karlie in that moment. But all she could do was embrace her, Claire nestled safely between them.  
  
“I’ll come back,” Taylor promised against Karlie’s hair. “I’ll come back to both of you. I promise.”  
  
“I’ll hold you to that,” Karlie whispered tearfully back. “I love you Taylor.”  
  
“I love you too. So much,” Taylor pulled back, leaning down to cup Claire’s cheek as she kissed her forehead. “Both of you.”  
  
Giving her hand one last squeeze, Karlie slipped away, boarding the truck. As silent tears tracked down Taylor’s face, she felt Abigail’s hand rest on her shoulder, Martha beside gently holding her hand. Ruby’s hand rested against the small of her back, Cara moving to lean her head against her shoulder.  
  
As the truck pulled onto the dusty road leading out of the barracks, Taylor watched, silently supported by her friends, as her family disappeared into the horizon.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Three months later, the band of friends descended their ship’s gangplank, arriving home for the first time in years.  
  
With promises to meet up later for a proper celebration, the group dispersed, leaving their last few congratulatory kisses against each other’s cheeks.  
  
Taylor wove through the dense crowd, bag hoisted on her back, scanning the crowd for a familiar lighthouse of blonde hair. Around her were countless scenes of families reunited, loves returned, promises kept.  
  
Then, as if by magic, the crowd parted. And there, at the end of the corridor of people, stood Karlie. From her vantage point in the model’s arms, Claire smiled at her. Taylor’s feet propelled her forward the way they always had around Karlie; magnetic, a compass finding its north.  
  
As the pair crashed together, a hopeless tangle of limbs and tears, Taylor felt something inside her loosen, a knot that had been tightening throughout the war pulled free at last.  
  
She was home. _  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Just as she had always done when she woke up from her dreams, Taylor instinctively searched the sheets for Dee, expecting her warm fur to brush up against her arm, her familiar weight on her chest.  
  
Her heart sunk as she remembered that Dee would never wake up with her again, fresh tears glimmering on her face in the light of the morning.  
  
Then she realised.  
  
Abigail. Abigail had been in her dream.  
  
Scrabbling for her phone, Taylor frantically called her best friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Updates might be a bit slow for a while. Uni is keeping me pretty busy.  
> Also, keep an eye out for Claire in future chapters. She's an original character of mine that might crop up here and there.  
> I really hope you guys are still enjoying the story. We're nearing the end folks!


	11. All Too Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've read the chapter title. Prepare accordingly.

Needless to say, when Abigail was jolted awake at five in the morning by the buzz of her phone, she wasn’t too pleased. She had been dreaming. A pretty strange one, really.  
  
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she groggily reached for the device, squinting at Taylor’s name on the screen.  
  
“Taylor? What the hell, it’s so early!” she groaned as she answered.  
  
“You were there!” Abigail flinched as she held the phone further away from her ear. “Abigail you were there! I’m sure it was you! You were with us!”  
  
“Woah, Taylor slow down. What are you talking about?”  
  
“Karlie!”  
  
“Karlie? Did you have another dream?”  
  
“Yes! You were there!”  
  
“I was there? You’ve never dreamed about me before. What was it about?” she asked, humouring her friend.  
  
Taylor’s dreams had always been a source of wonder to Abigail when they were little. Now she didn’t think too much of them. They were probably just a result of her friend’s sheer level of gayness.  
  
“We were at war. We were pilots,” Taylor said.  
  
Abigail felt her blood turn to ice.  
  
“Pilots?” she repeated.  
  
“Yeah! Karlie was a model who was visiting us. And I found a baby! Karlie and I adopted her. Her name was-”  
  
“Claire.” Abigail whispered, head spinning.  
  
Silence met her from across the phone.  
  
“Abigail? How do you know that?” Taylor’s asked, sounding scared.  
  
“Taylor, this is going to sound completely crazy, but in your dream did we have a group of friends? Other girls who were with us?”  
  
“Y-yeah,” Taylor stuttered. “There was Cara, Ruby and, and…”  
  
“Martha,” Abigail finished.  
  
“Yes,” Taylor sounded like she was close to tears. “Abigail how do you know that?!”  
  
“I was dreaming when you woke me up,” Abigail explained. “I was a pilot in the middle of a war. And you were there, flying next to me. But we were fighting other people and we crashed. By the time I found you, you’d found a baby. Her name was Claire.”  
  
Abigail swallowed hard before continuing, throat feeling tight.  
  
“Taylor? Karlie’s blonde, right? Freakishly tall, a few freckles, really bright smile?”  
  
“Yes,” Taylor sobbed. “Yes, that’s her.”  
  
“Well, in my dream, you were holding hands with someone who looked like that. Claire was with you both. Was that in your dream?”  
  
“Yeah.” From the other end of the phone, Abigail heard the muffled crying of her best friend.  
  
“Oh Taylor, it’s alright. It’s okay,” she soothed.  
  
“I’m scared Abby,” Taylor wept. “I’m really scared.”  
  
“So am I,” Abigail admitted. “But you’re okay. I’m right here with you.”  
  
“What does this mean?” I’ve been dreaming of Karlie since I was five! Why are you having my dreams too?”  
  
“I don’t know. But this can’t be a coincidence, Taylor. All your dreams, and now this? I just can’t accept that this is pure chance anymore. There has to be some truth to this,” Abigail said, mind whirring.  
  
“So,” Taylor hesitated. “Everything in my dreams, you think it’s… could they be real?”  
  
Abigail’s heart broke at the hope in her friend’s voice.  
  
“Taylor,” she took a deep breath. “After tonight, I honestly think so.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Remember how we met? Back when we were seven?”  
  
“Yeah,” Taylor sniffed. “You pushed that boy because he was making fun of my hair.”  
  
“That’s right. I’ve always remembered that feeling that I got before I shoved him. Like looking out for you was the obvious thing to do. Like we were already friends.”  
  
“What are you saying Abigail?”  
  
“Maybe we were already friends. Maybe I had already met you. In another life.”  
  
“Reincarnation?” Taylor asked.  
  
“Reincarnation.”  
  
Taylor was silent for a while, before letting out a shaky sigh.  
  
“I don’t think I can go to sleep again tonight Abigail.”  
  
The redhead glanced at the clock. Four thirty am.  
  
“That’s okay Taylor,” she said. “I’ll stay up with you.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor didn’t dream about Karlie for three years.  
  
Later, when she looked back on that time of her life, Taylor would realise that Karlie’s absence was partially her own fault.  
  
When she was little, she had chased after those dreams, desperate to see Karlie at least once more. Now, Taylor barely allowed herself to think of the other girl.  
  
The fact that Abigail had dreamed the exact same dream made everything so much more concrete. Karlie was no longer just a fantasy, she was now more real as she had ever been.  
  
Taylor was scared. No, more than that. Taylor was terrified out of her mind.  
  
The idea that Karlie was real, was out there somewhere waiting for her was downright frightening. But the thought that Karlie might not be real, after everything, after almost fifteen years of dreaming, was just too much to bear.  
  
So Taylor pushed all thoughts of Karlie from her mind. If she didn’t allow herself to dream of her again, there was no possibility that she would get hurt.  
  
And yet, even as she made that decision, Taylor had never been more acutely aware of the hollow ache in her heart.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Andrea watched her daughter undergo a curious change over those next years.  
  
Musically, she had never been stronger, continuing to grow and write to even greater heights. Hell, Fearless even won album of the year. But her daughter had never seemed more closed off.  
  
She could tell, those three years were some of the most tumultuous of Taylor life. It felt as though some of her biggest highs and deepest lows were all crammed into a matter of months.  
  
And Andrea was certain most of that had to do with a girl named Emily.  
  
The year she turned twenty, Taylor went on her first tour. Somehow, guitar lessons when she was little had turned into almost nightly performances in front of a crowd of hundreds. It was a surreal experience to hear her lyrics, words that had belonged only to her for so long, sung back to her. She was finally doing what she loved, night after night.  
  
But that elation only served to mask that empty throb in her heart for a while. As soon as she moved offstage, it would return, following her all the way back to her cramped tour bus.  
  
But performing on stage was not the only time that ache dissipated.  
  
It also seemed to vanish around Emily.  
  
The fiddle player had been in Taylor’s accompanying band for a few years by then. But something changed following the release of Fearless, a new comfort and ease in each other’s presence that was painfully familiar to Taylor.  
  
Dianna had left a scar, for sure. Certain songs from her first two albums could attest to that. But Emily was everything Dianna was not.  
  
Where Dianna was commanding, Emily was understanding. Dianna was impulsive and passionate. Emily was quiet and gentle.  
  
Dianna was proud of her sexuality.  
  
Emily was ashamed of it.  
  
That really was the crux of the whole ordeal. Nobody knew Emily was gay, not even her parents. She only told Taylor after their first kiss, and even then, it was through broken, gut-wrenching sobs.  
  
And Taylor understood. Of course she did. How could she not? She knew what it was like to hide a part of herself away from the world; how lonely it could be. Her record company still wouldn’t allow her to write with the pronouns she wanted, not when she was becoming ever more successful.  
  
Taylor had experienced a destructive relationship before. She knew how it felt to be manipulated and twisted by your partner. And she was determined that she wouldn’t do that to Emily.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
So they went slow. Taylor let Emily set the pace, happy to match whatever she was comfortable with. They didn’t even refer to each other as girlfriends for the first tentative few months.  
  
So much of their relationship happened behind closed doors. Homophobia still ran rampant through the country music industry, and with the career Taylor wanted to have, paired with Emily’s own internalised fears, coming out wasn’t an option.  
  
As much as Taylor resented the fact that they had to hide, something about keeping her relationship with Emily solely between the two of them felt good.  
  
There was an exhilarating rush whenever Emily pulled her down the fire escape of the studio, in one of those rare instances when they held hands in public, both giggling and casting furtive glances around them to make sure they weren’t seen.  
  
There was something sacred in how they would take Emily’s car and drive upstate, singing along to songs they didn’t know the lyrics to at the top of their lungs, not caring where they travelled together.  
  
There was something addicting in how Emily gazed at her from the driver’s seat, nearly passing through several red lights as she did so, unwilling to miss the opportunity to openly look at her girlfriend.  
  
There was something about the way Emily looked wearing Taylor’s own scarf that made her feel light enough to fly.  
  
There was always something precious in the sight of Emily dancing in her kitchen in the middle of the night, illuminated by the glow of the refrigerator, the only time Taylor felt her girlfriend let go of everything and truly allowed herself to just be.  
  
It felt as though it could last forever.  
  
And yet…  
  
And yet whenever Taylor thought about her future, it was never one with Emily. As fragile a situation as the one the pair found themselves trapped in, it was impossible to see how they would both make it out in one piece.  
  
It was in those moments that Taylor began second-guessing herself.  
  
She loved Emily. She truly did. She had never felt such a strong sense of belonging with another person before.  
  
But even as she wrote Speak Now, all by herself, it wasn’t Emily that she was thinking of.  
  
Try as she might, her thoughts would always drift to Karlie. And a horrible wave of guilt would always crash through her chest whenever she did. What if Karlie was out there searching for her that very second?  
  
No, it was better to keep the girl from her dreams out of her mind. But the further she progressed with Emily, the more guilt she felt about Karlie, as if being with someone real was an act of betrayal.  
  
Taylor grew angry. For the first time in her life, she grew angry at Karlie. All she wanted to do was be happy. For once, she wished that she never had those dreams. She just wanted to be happy.  
  
And that’s when Taylor grew reckless. If the only way to stop having those dreams was to be with Emily, then so be it.  
  
Furtive kisses behind closed doors turned to lingering ones in plain sight of others. Holding hands was no longer an act of secrecy. Impersonal, casual touches when in public were all but forgotten in place of open affection.  
  
It was a dangerous game, Taylor knew. But to her joy, Emily appeared ready to be seen together more visibly.  
  
For a dangerous, blissful moment, Taylor allowed herself to shake off all thoughts of Karlie, to truly let herself to hope that this would be her happy ending.  
  
After all, the record label may have forced her to change the pronouns in her lyrics, but there was nothing they could do to stop her relationships, right?  
  
Fate, it seemed, had other plans for Taylor.  
  
Mere months before the Speak Now tour kicked off, and only a few weeks after Taylor turned 21, they were caught.  
  
It was during the tour rehearsal. She and Emily had snuck into one of the backstage rooms for a moment. Just for a moment.  
  
But one of the stadium’s staff walked in on them, expecting an empty room.  
  
What they were not expecting, was to find Taylor and Emily in an undeniably… intimate position.  
  
No amount of lies could provide an alternative explanation to what the pair were doing. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the person who caught them soon threatened to go to the media with what they saw.  
  
Taylor was in a constant state of nausea. Her entire career now rested in the hands of a few choice people, and she hated it. As much as she had grown, her public image was still rooted in country music, a system which itself was wracked with homophobia.  
  
She knew if the truth got out, there would be no recovering from it.  
  
What followed was the ugliest point of Taylor’s career thus far. Weeks of negation between her then-publicist Paula and countless staff members who had already been told the news from the original source finally led to an agreement.  
  
The tour would continue as normal, the people involved in the incident were pacified, and the rumours that had already begun to spread remained just that; rumours.  
  
The whole incident was open and closed in a matter of weeks.  
  
But the damage had already been done.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Alright people, we’re done for the day.”  
  
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief as another rehearsal came to a close. She had been unfocused all day; Emily had yet to show up to practice.  
  
“Hey Taylor,” one of her backup dancers approached her. “Give my love to Emily, yeah? I’ll be sad to see her go.”  
  
“What?” Taylor gave a confused smile. “Going where?”  
  
“Well, she’s leaving the band.”  
  
Taylor felt her stomach turn to acid.  
  
“She’s… what?” she whispered.  
  
“Wait, she didn’t tell you?”  
  
“No,” Taylor said, more to herself, backing away. “No, she didn’t tell me a thing.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Babe!” Taylor burst through the door of Emily’s hotel room.  
  
“What is it Taylor?”  
  
Taylor look a moment to catch her breath, only then noticing that Emily’s suitcase was lying open on the bed, her girlfriend busy packing her things.  
  
“Emily? What’s going on?”  
  
“What does it look like Tay?”  
  
“Babe, where are you going?” Taylor stepped forward, gently taking Emily’s hands. “It’s not Paula is it? I swear to God, if she’s doing this, I’ll stop her! She can’t make you go! She-”  
  
Emily detangled their hands, stepping away.  
  
“Taylor. No one’s making me leave,” she said, staring at the ground.  
  
“What? Then…”  
  
No.  
  
Oh no no no.  
  
This couldn’t be happening.  
  
It couldn’t.  
  
This had to be a nightmare.  
  
No.  
  
“Emily tell me what’s going on,” Taylor said, tears gathering in her eyes. She had to hear it for herself.  
  
Her girlfriend sighed, still not meeting her gaze.  
  
“I can’t do this anymore Taylor. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”  
  
“Why not?” Taylor asked gently.  
  
“It’s impossible. It’s just too impossible for us to be together and for you to be Taylor Swift at the same time. You can’t continue like this.”  
  
“That’s it? We can work around that!” Taylor begged. “I can come out publicly! We can be together without hiding! It can work.”  
  
“No Taylor,” Emily sighed. “It’s not just that. I can’t keep living like this. And it’s not fair to you. Whatever’s between us, it isn’t me.”  
  
“It is you, Emily,” Taylor objected. “You’re still the same person you always have been, no matter if you’re gay or not!”  
  
“I’m not gay!” Emily shouted.  
  
Taylor was stunned to silence, her girlfriend’s voice hitting her like a brick to the stomach. Emily had never raised her voice like that before.  
  
“I’m. Not. Gay.” Emily said harshly. “I’m not.”  
  
“So,” Taylor choked out. “So, everything between us? That was a lie?”  
  
And finally, Emily looked her in the eyes.  
  
“No. That was real. That was all real.” Stepping forward, Emily looked as though she was about to take Taylor’s hand, but decided against it.  
  
“I love you Taylor. I truly do. But I can’t be gay. I just can’t.”  
  
“You… you can’t”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
Then Taylor understood. Emily was scared.  
  
Emily’s entire life had been dedicated to supressing who she really was. Emily, who spent every day hiding her truth from her family.  
  
Emily, who had finally allowed herself to love another girl openly and who had almost been destroyed because of it.  
  
“Babe,” Taylor whispered.  
  
“Don’t-” Emily’s voice cracked. “Don’t call me that. Please stop calling me that.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Taylor cried, grabbing fistfuls of her own hair in desperation. “This is all my fault. I pushed you into this, didn’t I?”  
  
“Hey, stop that,” Emily’s hands curled around Taylor’s wrists, guiding them away from her hair. “It’s not your fault Taylor. Everything that’s happened between us has been wonderful, it really has.”  
  
“Then why are you leaving? This is the one real thing you’ve ever had! Why are you throwing it away?” Taylor accused, arms limp in Emily’s grasp.  
  
“It isn’t me, Taylor.”  
  
“Yes, it is!”  
  
“It’s not.”  
  
“Emily, we could still have this! We can still have each other! I’m ready to fight for that! Why aren’t you?”  
  
“I thought my future was going to be with you,” Emily shook her head ruefully. “But it’s not. It can’t be. Not with the way things are now.”  
  
“What do you want me to do?” Taylor began sobbing in earnest, “What more can I do? Please. I can’t lose this Emily. I can’t lose you.”  
  
“There’s nothing else you can do Taylor.”  
  
“Emily…”  
  
“I have to be honest to you, Taylor. And I have to be truthful to myself too. And this can’t be my truth.” Emily returned to packing her things away, closing her suitcase with a finality that only cracked Taylor’s heart more.  
  
“But it was,” she whispered. “It was your truth. I was your truth. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten that.”  
  
Emily only sighed once more, tears spilling out of her own eyes.  
  
“I’m sorry Taylor. That truth is long gone.”  
  
The pair stared at each other for a beat. Then in unison, both surged forward and crashed into a last desperate hug, a wave against a rock before it’s pulled out to sea once more.  
  
“But I’ll remember you,” Emily wept. “I’ll always remember you.”  
  
“I’ll remember everything,” Taylor promised, throat raw from crying. “I’ll remember it all. I promise.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Andrea Swift could confidently say that she had always felt quite successful as a parent. Not because her daughter’s career was thriving, but because she had raised a woman who knew her worth, who was proud of who she was, even if that pride had to be hidden at times.  
  
But in that period of time following Emily’s departure, she had never felt more helpless.  
  
Andrea could only watch sorrowfully as her daughter’s life turned into a double act. There was no stopping the Speak Now tour. And she could tell, every night when Taylor was performing, lost in the energy of the music and the crowd, that she was happy. Genuinely, truly happy.  
  
But all that confidence seemed to vanish the instant the lights went down.  
  
Taylor walked shrouded in an air of defeat, her pain visible in her hunched shoulders, bowed head, and tired eyes. She looked like a porcelain doll, constantly in danger of overbalancing and breaking.  
  
She barely spoke if she didn’t have to, and Andrea was certain her sleep was becoming more interrupted. It got to the stage where she began to share a tour bus with Taylor wherever they travelled, too worried to keep her alone.  
  
But what concerned Andrea the most was that aside from her nightly shows, Taylor rarely picked up her guitar or touched a piano. And on those rare occasions when she did, when Andrea overheard her singing quietly to herself, they were new songs, but with lyrics that were enough to break the mother’s heart.  
  
Whether Taylor planned on recording any of those songs for a future album, Andrea dared not ask. But she knew that Taylor couldn’t continue on this path for much longer without burning herself out entirely.  
  
And that became painfully evident one cold night in autumn…  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor blinked wearily awake from her nap at the buzz of her phone. Taking a moment to stretch her tired limbs, she checked the screen, not really caring to answer anyone right then.  
  
Until she saw the caller ID.  
  
“Fuck.” Taylor thought, hands trembling as she answered it. “Oh, fuck me.”  
  
“Hello?” She answered, voice wavering.  
  
“Taylor?”  
  
“Emily?”  
  
“Taylor! Hi! How are you? How’s touring?”  
  
Taylor felt like passing out. “It’s… I’m good. Things are good.” Lies.  
  
“Great! I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”  
  
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Lying.  
  
“Cool, great.” Emily sighed over the phone.  
  
“So, I know it’s been a while. I hope you’re doing okay?”  
  
“Yeah I’m fine.” Lies lies lies.  
  
“Good, that’s good to hear.” Another sigh. Taylor was beginning to hate sighing.  
  
“So,” Emily dragged out. “I know things are probably a bit messy between us, but I really wanted to talk to you.”  
  
Shit.  
  
“Can I ask you something? Something really important?”  
  
Shit.  
  
“Sure. Go ahead.”  
  
“Well… you’re very special to me Taylor.”  
  
Fuck.  
  
“And I’ve been thinking a lot about us over the past few weeks.”  
  
Holy fuck.  
  
“And I just wanted to ask you…”  
  
Shit fuck don’t get your hopes up don’t do it shit.  
  
“…will you be one of my bridesmaids?”  
  
And finally, with that simple question, Taylor felt her heart completely tear itself apart.  
  
“… Bridesmaid?”  
  
“Yeah. For my wedding.”  
  
“Wedding.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m getting married.”  
  
“Oh,” Taylor harshly swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Emily that’s… that’s great. Um, to who?”  
  
“Oh, his name’s Eli.”  
  
He.  
  
“We met in high school, but only began talking again a little while ago. One thing led to another and, yeah. We’re getting married.”  
  
“Well, that’s great,” Taylor said. “Bridesmaid, well, um. I’ll have to check when I’m free. Touring and all that.”  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Emily hastily replied.  
  
“But uh, yeah, send me the details and I’ll get back to you?”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
“Great,” Taylor said again. “Well, uh. I’ll… talk to you later?”  
  
“Sure. Bye Taylor! And thanks again,” Emily hung up with a muffled click.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure how long she sat there, too stunned to do anything.  
  
Then, for the first time in months, Taylor got up and walked over to the piano.  
  
Sitting down, she slapped her phone down on the top of the piano, pressed record, and started to play, mindless of anything except her emotions and thoughts at that very instant flowing out through her fingertips.  
  
She began to sing.  
  
_“I walked through the door with you, the air was cold…”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
_“It was rare, I was there, I remember it. All too well…”_  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there. All she knew is that her face was now coated in tears, voice raw and breaking from a mixture of singing and screaming. But oddly, there was some joy there too. She had almost forgotten how liberating song writing was.  
  
Stopping the recording on the phone, she turned in time to see Andrea standing in the doorway of their shared bus, hand covering her mouth as she shed some tears of her own at her daughter’s song.  
  
“Oh, Taylor sweetie.”  
  
“Mom,” Taylor sobbed, running into Andrea’s open arms.  
  
“I love you Taylor,” Andrea cradled her daughter as they both cried. “I’m here. I’m right here. I love you so much. Never forget that. It’ll be okay.”  
  
“It will?” Taylor mumbled against her mother’s shoulder.  
  
“Yes,” Andrea said firmly. “It certainly might not feel like it now. But it’s going to be okay.”  
  
And for the first time in months, Taylor felt that maybe it would be.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
A week later, Andrea sat down beside where Taylor was lying in bed, notebook in hand as she finalised some new lyrics. In her hands was a cardboard box.  
  
“Remember what I got you for your birthday when you were six?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah, we took a drive to go pick up Dee,” Taylor smiled at the memory of her old cat.  
  
“Well I know things have been a bit rough lately, and I know you’ve had a lot on your mind with touring, and everything else. But you keep going, every single night, and I just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am. And I figured you’d need a bit of a pick-me-up, so…”  
  
Andrea handed over the box, Taylor eagerly taking it and peeking inside.  
  
Blinking up at her from a nest of blankets was a tiny grey and white kitten, its ears folded snugly against her head.  
  
“Mom!” Taylor shrieked, setting the box down and picking up the cat.  
  
“She’s a Scottish fold,” Andrea explained, “that’s why her ears are like that. What do you think?”  
  
“I love her!”  
  
Andrea’s heart melted as Taylor cuddled her new cat close to her chest, her mind replaying the image of her six-year-old daughter smiling and snuggling her first pet in the exact same way. How things had changed since then.  
  
“You have to name her,” Andrea reminded gently.  
  
“Meredith,” Taylor said firmly. “Her name’s Meredith.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“I met someone called Selena a few months ago.”  
  
“Okayyy? Good for you?” Abigail said, confused.  
  
It had been eight months since that fateful call from Emily. While the pain in Taylor’s heart was still present, it had dulled from a sharp pain to a dull throb during that time.  
  
After the end of the Speak Now tour, Taylor, Abigail, and both their families had decided to take a shared visit to New York. Partly as a celebration of the end of the tour, but also as a much-needed break from everything.  
  
She was now riding in the back of one of her security cars with her best friend, staring absentmindedly at the passing store windows of New York.  
  
“Yeah,” she continued. “At some awards thing. She’s an actress, but she’s a pretty good singer too.” Taylor took a deep breath.  
  
“She looked exactly like someone from my dreams,” she admitted.  
  
“Your dreams about…Karlie?” Abigail confirmed. “Which one?”  
  
“Yeah, one I had years ago. I was a tattoo artist, Karlie was a florist. Selena was my best friend.”  
  
“Taylor!” Abigail exclaimed dramatically, hand on her chest. “Am I being replaced?”  
  
“No!” Taylor laughed. “Nothing like that. I’m just saying, you were in my last dream, and now it turns out Selena’s real too. And I’m sure it was her in that dream, I’m sure of it.”  
  
“Huh,” Abigail frowned thoughtfully. “You haven’t had a dream about Karlie for a while now.”  
  
“Almost three y-”  
  
Oh my god.  
  
Taylor frantically pressed herself against the window of the car, craning her neck to watch a particular storefront zip by.  
  
Because there, on a giant image that spanned one of the store windows, was Karlie.  
  
It was only a glimpse, some of her features lost in the rest of the image. Taylor assumed it was a campaign photo for a certain brand. But it was Karlie.  
  
It had to be.  
  
Far too soon, the car had sped by. But that one look was enough to send a familiar stab of pain shooting through Taylor’s stomach.  
  
Only this time it didn’t go away.  
  
Vaguely, she was aware of Abigail’s hand on her back as she hunched over, arms folded across her midsection as she tried to focus on what she was feeling.  
  
Slowly, the pain lessened, sharpened, and pulled taught. It was as if a string had been tied to her heart and was being yanked away from her.  
  
As if it was leading her somewhere.  
  
And it was, Taylor realised with a sharp intake of breath. If she squeezed her eyes shut and focused hard, she began to feel some subtle shifts in that invisible string, almost as though whatever was tied on the other end was moving, just out of her reach.  
  
Then it vanished once more, the string cut, leaving her breathless.  
  
“Taylor?”  
  
Taylor’s eyes snapped to Abigail’s worried ones.  
  
“I have to take a nap,” she blurted.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I have to nap!” Taylor said, frantic. “That was Karlie just then, I know it! But something felt different this time. I. Have. To. Nap!”  
  
“Oh shit, okay!” Abigail paused for a second as the car stopped at the lights. Then, moving just about as fast as Taylor had ever seen, the redhead reached over and unbuckled both of their seatbelts before yanking Taylor down.  
  
“Abby what are you-”  
  
“Shush,” Abigail gently rested Taylor’s head against her legs. “Feet up,” she instructed.  
  
Taylor did as she was told, watching as her best friend strapped her legs in place with the seatbelts.  
  
Taylor was now lying across the car seats, head resting in Abigail’s lap.  
  
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Abigail asked with a huff. “Go to sleep!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So I have some THINGS to say. 
> 
> First of all...
> 
> Taylor riding a giant unicorn Olivia wearing nothing but rainbow? My aesthetic. Cleared my skin, watered my crops, ended homophobia. A true icon. 
> 
> Secondly, the tour. has. begun. I've been trying so hard to avoid reading/watching anything about it but it is HARD. Because it looks AMAZING. 
> 
> To anyone else who has to wait until the Australia leg of the tour like I do, I feel your pain. 
> 
> And lastly, I know this chapter has a different layout to the others (no dream? I wonder what this could mean...?) 
> 
> But in all seriousness, I decided to split the dream and the real-time stuff in two parts for this one because I wanted to do it right. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this update, and to those lucky enough to see Taylor live in the next few months, I hope you have a magical time. :) 
> 
> Thanks again everyone!


	12. Burton To This Taylor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To that one reader who requested this AU months ago, you're an absolute legend for sticking around this long.  
> Early update because you guys are an impatient bunch and because I feel slightly bad for what I'm about to do ;)

_“Taylor!”  
  
“Taylor! Over here!”  
  
“Taylor can we get a smile?”  
  
“Taylor is it true you and Karlie are no longer living together?”  
  
“Can you confirm the rumours about you two?”  
  
“How does it feel working together after so long?”  
  
“Taylor?”  
  
“Taylor!”  
  
Taylor smiled as she moved through the corridor of men, camera flashes walling her in on either side. The smile on her face felt plastic. The instant she was within the studio doors, she wiped the expression clean.  
  
Fucking paparazzi. Parasites, the lot of them.  
  
But the second she stepped inside, she was swarmed by vultures of a different kind; costume designers pulling her in all directions, makeup artists attacking her face, stylists yanking her hair.  
  
Before she knew it, she was on set once again.  
  
Normally she was elated to go to work each day. But ever since the casting had been announced, Taylor had been on edge, dreading the day that shooting began.  
  
So much so that when a gentle hand rested on her shoulder, she almost jumped out of her skin. She spun around, ready to snap at whoever had startled her, but froze as she was met with the same green eyes that had plagued her thoughts for months.  
  
“Sorry,” Karlie smiled apologetically, hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  
  
“S’okay,” Taylor mumbled, unable to stop herself from staring dumbly at the other woman.  
  
Karlie gave a wan smile, shoving her hands deep in her pockets. “How have you been?”  
  
“Good,” Taylor said, motioning towards Karlie’s hair. “You changed it.”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Karlie toyed with the short strands that just brushed her shoulders. “I missed being brunette.”  
  
“It looks good,” Taylor was quick to add. “It looks really good.”  
  
Understatement. If Taylor thought blonde suited Karlie before, now she looked heavenly. She cleared her throat harshly, dispelling those thoughts.  
  
“You’ve been well, I trust?”  
  
“I have,” Karlie nodded, the pair lapsing into silence. God, Taylor hated small talk.  
  
“And… how is she?” Taylor asked, addressing the question both women knew she desperately wanted answered.  
  
“She’s doing fine,” Karlie shrugged. “It’s been difficult for her, I will admit.”  
  
Taylor nodded, appreciating Karlie’s tone. No spite, no malice, no attempts at guilt-tripping, just the truth.  
  
“She misses her mother,” Karlie admitted softly.  
  
Taylor deflated slightly. “I miss her too.”  
  
Karlie smiled at the sincerity in Taylor’s voice.  
  
“Maybe we could, I don’t know…” she trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck.  
  
“Alright people! Let’s get started!” the director clapped his hands. “Taylor, we need you in position right now!”  
  
Taylor shot the man a dirty look, ignoring his instructions and turning back to Karlie.  
  
“Are you okay with this?” She asked, concerned. “You’ve read the script, you know what I’ll need to do in some scenes, and I don’t blame you if-”  
  
“No,” Karlie waved her hands dismissively, “it’s fine, really. Personal life can be put aside, remember? This is our job.”  
  
Taylor nodded. “Okay.”  
  
Leaving Karlie, she stepped onto set. As she moved into position, her other co-star stepped up beside her.  
  
“Hey Taylor,” Harry said with a crooked smile.  
  
“Hey Harry,” Taylor returned the smile, pulling her friend into a hug. Dropping her voice so only he could hear it, she whispered “How’s Louis?”  
  
“He’s doing alright,” Harry smiled. “You and Karlie?”  
  
Taylor grimaced, the events of the past few months still weighing heavily on her shoulders.  
  
“Not so great huh?”  
  
“No,” Taylor sighed, casting a sideways glance to where Karlie was hovering off set. “I know we agreed we couldn’t be with each other, not with the way things are now, but…”  
  
“You still love her?” Harry prompted.  
  
“So much,” Taylor admitted, eyes downcast.  
  
“Look,” Harry shuffled his feet, gesturing to cameras and lights around them. “I’m sorry about all this, Taylor. I never would have taken the part if I had known you and Karlie were cast as well.”  
  
“No,” Taylor said firmly. “I’m glad it’s you. I’d much rather do this with someone Karlie and I both trust than some slimeball actor who doesn’t know our secret.”  
  
Harry gave a relieved smile. “Me too. I’ll try and make this as painless as possible, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Taylor nodded. “We can make it through one kiss, can’t we?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Both shared a quiet laugh. How ironic, that they had been chosen to represent a film depicting an enduring love between a man and a woman, something neither had any interest in at all.  
  
“Alright you two,” the director called. “This is the scene where you reunite after so many months apart. I want a kiss and I want passion! Can you do that?”  
  
Taylor had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She’d never understand straight people.  
  
“Action!”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
True to his word, Harry made the whole ordeal almost bearable. Except for the fact that the director made them do another five takes.  
  
Taylor felt the anxiety begin to creep in with every scene. Her old enemy she used to battle back when she had first started out as an actress, whenever any role starred a male love interest, whenever any interviewer asked about potential boyfriends or husbands.  
  
So many years of hiding herself meant that the smallest things seemed to set her on edge, practically welcoming the anxiety.  
  
Now she felt it more strongly than ever, her body slipping from her, no longer feeling in control of who she was. It hadn’t been this bad since before she met Karlie.  
  
So when the director finally called it quits for the day, Taylor immediately, instinctively searched the room for the one person she knew could make it better.  
  
Only to watch as Karlie disappeared out of the studio doors, without a backwards glance.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor sighed as she poured herself another glass of whiskey.  
  
She felt awful.  
  
None of it was Harry’s fault, she knew that. But that day had just brought up so many things she had fought to repress for months. Karlie. Her own loneliness. Her worry about Karlie. Karlie. Karlie.  
  
Taylor slouched forward, head in her hands. She was dissociating hard. She could feel it. That was all she could feel.  
  
Her thoughts no longer felt like her own, her heartbeat still hammered painfully fast against her ribs, breathing ragged. Her surroundings were quickly melting away until it was just her and the remaining void and she was falling.  
  
Falling.  
  
Falling.  
  
Not even the burn of the alcohol felt real anymore.  
  
Taylor hurriedly stood, clutching her head when the edges of her vision began to dim. Hastily grabbing her keys, she stumbled to the front door, forcing it open with arms that barely felt like her own anymore.  
  
Only to be greeted by a wall of rain.  
  
Taylor blinked numbly, thunder booming in the distance.  
  
She really should go back inside, she thought. Back to her cold, empty house, alone with her thoughts and alcohol and silent pain.  
  
“Fuck it.” Taylor stepped outside.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was fourteen when she had her first panic attack, exactly five minutes after filming her first onscreen kiss.  
  
She spent the following three hours locked in her dressing room, face pressed into the corner of the wall, eyes wide, chest impossibly tight, the knocking on the door in tandem with her racing heartbeat.  
  
When she eventually had to explain to the director why she had been gone for so long, he proceeded to yell at her for overreacting and for wasting time.  
  
Ever since, Taylor had dreaded any on-camera intimacy. But given the era of film she was working in, there were precious few alternative options for a woman like her.  
  
So she steeled herself and took every subsequent panic attack by herself, away from prying eyes. Heaven forbid anyone saw her being emotionally weak.  
  
But then Karlie came along and tore down her walls with one glance of her green eyes.  
  
Taylor was twenty-five when Karlie first saw her in the throes of an attack. She honestly expected Karlie to laugh, to run, anything. But she stayed.  
  
Karlie remained the only person on the planet that could help her when it became this bad. And, feet pounding against the wet pavement, illuminated only by the glow of the streetlamps, it was to Karlie that Taylor now ran.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor stood shaking outside Karlie’s home, drenched head to toe from the rain. She slowly clenched and unclenched her hands, anxiety still fiercely worming its way through her veins.  
  
This was stupid. Why the hell would Karlie want to see her after everything that had happened? After Everything Taylor had done?  
  
No. She couldn’t do this. Karlie deserved better.  
  
As soon as she turned away, ready to begin the long trek home through more rain, the door flew open.  
  
“Taylor!” Karlie grabbed her hand and yanked her inside, slamming the door closed behind them.  
  
“Are you insane?” Karlie rounded on Taylor. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re out there alone in a thunderstorm?! What were you thinking?” she demanded furiously.  
  
Taylor stood dripping water onto Karlie’s very expensive carpet, lost for words. Her heart was now thundering for a different reason.  
  
“Karlie,” she whispered.  
  
“Oh no, you don’t get to do that,” Karlie snapped. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t be together anymore! You don’t get to waltz in here and expect me to be okay with it.”  
  
Taylor felt Karlie’s gaze roam over her body, up to her face. She must have seen the desperation there, because her expression immediately softened.  
  
“Taylor?” she took a tentative step forward. And god, there was so much concern in her eyes that Taylor crumpled, everything hitting her all at once.  
  
“Karlie,” she whimpered.  
  
“Oh no,” Karlie’s eyes widened in realisation. In two short steps she had closed the space between them, enveloping Taylor in a protective hug.  
  
“Oh god I’m such a jerk. You had a panic attack, didn’t you?” she asked gently, cradling Taylor’s head against her shoulder.  
  
After the freezing cold of the rain coupled with how horrible Taylor had been feeling all evening, Karlie’s warm skin against hers sent such a sharp wave of relief through her that she audibly gasped.  
  
Looping her arms weakly around Karlie’s waist, she nodded against her shoulder. Karlie, seemingly unperturbed by the rain soaking her clothes, began to rub circles against Taylor’s back, swaying the pair slightly.  
  
“How long?” she asked.  
  
“This afternoon,” Taylor muttered. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably, a cold wave of anxiety making her squeeze her eyes shut. Vaguely, she felt Karlie pull away. Then a warm pair of hands was cradling her face, thumbs ghosting over her cheeks.  
  
“Taylor?” Karlie asked firmly. Taylor opened her eyes, Karlie looking at her intently. “Are you still having a panic attack?”  
  
Taylor could only nod. Karlie looked crestfallen, eyes dropping to the floor, hands leaving Taylor’s face, causing her to whimper. From this close, Taylor could smell the alcohol on Karlie, which only broke her heart more. She wasn’t the only one who was hurting.  
  
“This is all my fault,” Karlie muttered. “I knew this would happen and I wasn’t there for you.”  
  
“Karlie,” Taylor stepped back into Karlie’s embrace, already missing her warmth. Karlie snapped out of her reverie at the touch of Taylor’s cold skin.  
  
“Okay,” she said, wrapping an arm around Taylor’s waist. “Okay, come on. Let’s get you dry.”  
  
Shivering, Taylor allowed herself to be led upstairs. Once inside the bedroom, Karlie gently closed the door behind them before dashing to the bathroom and returning with a towel.  
  
“Here,” Karlie unfolded and draped it across Taylor’s shoulders. “I’m not letting you sit on that bed until you’re dry.”  
  
Taylor smiled, rainwater still dripping into her eyes. Karlie caught her gaze and seemed to freeze, eyes flicking to her lips. Taylor stepped forward.  
  
“I’ll,” Karlie cleared her throat, backing away, “I’ll get you some dry clothes.”  
  
“Okay,” Taylor muttered, disappointed.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Within a few minutes, Taylor was dry once again, wearing a pair of Karlie’s pyjamas. Here, in the warmth of Karlie’s room, despite everything that still went unspoken between them, she felt safe.  
  
“Your legs are too long, you know?” Taylor tugged on the pyjama pants, the fabric falling well past her ankles.  
  
“Shut up. You’re not exactly short yourself,” Karlie chuckled, having changed clothes herself. Sitting beside her on the bed, Karlie rested her hand palm-up on the sheets between them, an invitation. Taylor happily took it, twining their fingers together.  
  
“Feeling any better?” Karlie asked.  
  
“Yes,” Taylor said truthfully. It was the truth. After so many hours spent by herself, the tightness in her chest was beginning to loosen at last, her heart rate slowing.  
  
“Good,” Karlie nodded. “Do you want anything?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Taylor shrugged.  
  
“Okay, do you need anything?”  
  
“You.”  
  
Karlie tensed up, her grip slackening on her hand. “Taylor, we can’t-”  
  
“Not like that!” Taylor said hastily. “I just… I can’t be alone tonight Karlie.” She sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “After today I… I just need to feel someone else’s hands.”  
  
Karlie looked at her for a long time. Taylor could practically see the gears turning in her head.  
  
Then after an age, Karlie scooted up the bed and crawled under the covers, lifting the opposite corner. Taylor happily wiggled in as Karlie draped the covers over the pair before laying herself down.  
  
“Come here,” Karlie opened her arms. Taylor melted against her body with a soft sigh. Oh, she had missed this.  
  
Resting her head against her chest, Taylor closed her eyes at the familiar sound of Karlie’s heartbeat. The taller girl wound her arms around Taylor, fingers gliding up and down her spine. Karlie’s other hand slowly moved up and down Taylor’s arm, squeezing gently.  
  
“You’re okay,” Karlie murmured. “You’re okay. You’re here. You’re real. Everything’s okay.”  
  
The familiar words and almost brought tears to Taylor’s eyes. This had always been their routine. Whenever Taylor had a panic attack, Karlie would always hold her like this, grounding her, bringing feeling back into her arms and body until she came back to herself.  
  
Taylor didn’t deserve this.  
  
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” she promised, eyes growing heavy.  
  
For a while, the pair rested in silence, Taylor slowly being lulled to sleep by the gentle rise and fall of Karlie’s chest.  
  
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Karlie whispered.  
  
“I do,” Taylor whispered. “I can’t do this Karlie.”  
  
From beneath her, Taylor felt Karlie sigh heavily.  
  
“You keep saying that,” Karlie muttered. “But I honestly think you’re the only one who believes it.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor woke up the next day, she didn’t open her eyes at first. That was the best sleep she’d had in a long time. Letting out a contented sigh, she wound her arms tighter around the body next to her.  
  
Wait.  
  
Taylor’s eyes snapped open. Karlie was still curled up beside her, sound asleep. Sometime during the night, Taylor had become the big spoon, the taller girl nestled securely in her arms.  
  
Barely daring to breathe, Taylor extracted her arms. Karlie stirred, but didn’t wake. Slipping out of the bed, Taylor crept to the door, quietly opened it, and left the room, taking one last lingering look at the figure in bed.  
  
The instant the door was fully closed, Taylor bolted.  
  
“Shit, shit, shit,” She muttered, flying down the stairs.  
  
She shouldn’t have done this. Christ, she had just made everything so much more complicated. She needed to leave. She needed to run. Heart pounding in her ears, she reached the door and began fumbling with the doorknob.  
  
She had to leave she had to leave she had to-  
  
“Mama?”  
  
Taylor spun around. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands fiddling with the hem of her pyjama shirt, mouth agape as she stared with wide hazel eyes at the actress, was a little girl.  
  
“Claire!” Taylor ran towards her daughter.  
  
“Mama! Mama!” Claire propelled herself forward into Taylor’s arms. Taylor scooped the little girl up and held her tight, peppering her face with kisses.  
  
“I missed you Ma,” Claire clutched her mother tightly.  
  
“I missed you too honey,” Taylor whispered. Setting her daughter down, Taylor brushed away some errant strands of dark brown hair that had fallen into the little girl’s face.  
  
“Look how tall you are!” She said. Claire straightened her spine proudly.  
  
“I’ve been growing!” She said happily. “I’m gonna be tall as you one day!”  
  
“Is that so?” Taylor smiled. Claire had grown. At just six years old, she was already taller than most girls in her class. But in Taylor’s absence over the past six months, it felt as though she had skyrocketed.  
  
Claire looked over her mother’s shoulder towards the door, the smile dropping from her face slightly.  
  
“Mama? Are you leaving again?” she asked sadly.  
  
“Oh no, Claire. I wasn’t,” Taylor lied. “I was just… going out to buy things for breakfast.”  
  
“Are we going to make breakfast together?” Claire hopped up and down.  
  
“Yes we are!” Taylor nodded enthusiastically. “Would you like to come with me?  
  
“Yes please!” Claire made a dash to the door.  
  
“Claire honey,” Taylor laughed. “Why don’t we change out of our pyjamas first?”  
  
Claire looked down at herself, then back up at Taylor, before dashing back up the stairs. Taylor shook her head. She had missed that girl.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Thankfully Taylor didn’t have work that day, no other pressing matters to attend to, and plenty of time to spend with her daughter.  
  
Who was currently decorating a stack of pancakes with far too many toppings, a big clump of half-dried pancake mix in her hair.  
  
“How do you always manage to make a mess when we’re in the kitchen?” Taylor laughed, wiping a smear of batter from her daughter’s cheek.  
  
“She takes after you.” Both Taylor and Claire turned to see Karlie leaning against the doorframe, smiling at her girls.  
  
“Morning Mommy!” Claire hopped off the bar stool and ran to hug her mother’s legs.  
  
“Morning sweetheart,” Karlie ruffled her hair. “What smells so good?”  
  
“Mama’s pancakes! I helped!” Claire reported proudly.  
  
“Claire, do you want to show Mom the one you decorated for her?” Taylor asked.  
  
“Oh yeah!” Taking Karlie’s hand, Claire led her back to the kitchen counter. Karlie’s stack of pancakes was coated in powdered sugar, “Mom” written messily in chocolate sauce over the top.  
  
“Look at that!” Karlie said enthusiastically, hugging Claire. “Thank you, sweetheart.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Claire said.  
  
“Alright,” Taylor flipped the last pancake onto her plate. “Let’s eat.”  
  
Claire couldn’t stop bouncing in her seat throughout breakfast. After they all ate one too many pancakes, Karlie turned to her daughter.  
  
“You’re happy this morning Claire.”  
  
“Yep!”  
  
“Why’s that honey?” Taylor asked.  
  
“Because you and Mommy are here. I can’t remember the last time we had breakfast together.”  
  
Taylor and Karlie were quiet, sending silent glances to each other.  
  
“It’s nice to have Mama here isn’t it?” Karlie reached over and held Claire’s hand. Their daughter nodded.  
  
“Are you staying today Mama?” Claire asked, eyes wide.  
  
Taylor glanced at Karlie, who gave a small shrug.  
  
“I’m sorry, honey,” Taylor said. “Mama has to go after breakfast okay? But I’ll be visiting a lot more often now.”  
  
“Okay,” Claire pouted, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.  
  
Just then a loud clap of thunder echoed outside. The three turned to the window in time for a fresh sheet of rain to begin hammering the ground.  
  
“Well, this changes everything,” Karlie laughed. “I guess you’re stuck with us today Taylor.”  
  
“Ma?” Claire asked hopefully.  
  
Taylor sighed dramatically, betrayed by her smile.  
  
“I guess I am.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“I had fun today Ma,” Claire yawned, crawling into her bed.  
  
“Me too honey,” Taylor smiled, stroking her daughter’s hair in the way that always sent her to sleep.  
  
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Claire asked, eyelids drooping.  
  
“Not tomorrow baby. But Mom says after work on Monday, I can come home with her for another visit. How does that sound?”  
  
“Good,” Claire yawned again, closing her eyes. “I love you Mama.”  
  
Taylor pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I love you too Claire. Sleep tight.”  
  
Sending one last glance towards her daughter, Taylor quietly closed the door behind her.  
  
“My offer still stands,” Karlie whispered behind her. “You can always stay.”  
  
Taylor sighed, turning to face her. “I can’t Karlie.”  
  
“Sure,” Karlie muttered, frowning. Just as she was about to walk away, Taylor grabbed her wrist.  
  
“I can’t,” she repeated. “Not yet.”  
  
“Yet?” Karlie asked with a hopeful smile.  
  
“I can’t stay yet,” Taylor said. “But I’m getting there.”  
  
Just like that, Karlie’s bright sunshine smile was back. The taller girl pulled Taylor into a hug, which she happily reciprocated. The two stayed like that for some time, swaying gently.  
  
“I’ll wait for you,” Karlie whispered. “For as long as you need, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”  
  
When Taylor walked home that evening, the soft glow of the sunset hitting her shoulders, she was smiling.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was twenty four when she met Karlie. On the set of a film in which they were the leads. Within six months, they were dating.  
  
It was something inexplicable, unexplainable, but the second Taylor set eyes on Karlie, she knew that she would love her. There was something eerily familiar about the other actress. Within minutes of speaking to her for the first time, Taylor felt as though she had known Karlie for years already.  
  
The pair only bonded more while on set. And after the film’s premiere, the pair received such praise for their work that soon enough, multiple directors were vying for their attention.  
  
What followed was the highest point of Taylor’s career. For a few years, the pair appeared in countless movies together, taking over the world side by side.  
  
But with that growing popularity came consequences.  
  
It was when the pair chose to adopt Claire, just a baby back then, that rumours began to fly. In a time when same-sex couples were still scorned, shunned, the media was hungry for any potentially scandalous rumour involving two of Hollywood’s greatest stars.  
  
They were soon followed everywhere, photographers and reporters desperate to prove they were a couple.  
  
Taylor felt herself beginning to crack, the pressure coming from all sides wearing down her defences she had worked so hard to build with Karlie’s help.  
  
Then, on Claire’s fifth birthday, when Taylor went to pick up her daughter’s birthday cake, she was so inundated by paparazzi that she had her first really bad panic attack in a long time. By the time she stumbled home, breathless, crying, cake forgotten, she had been away for hours.  
  
Karlie was furious. Not at Taylor, of course, but at the media. She was ready to charge outside and tell them the truth, everything, if it meant her family could live in peace.  
  
Taylor on the other hand, insisted they remain hidden. If everyone knew about them, they would never find peace. Claire would never be able to have a normal childhood. She would be tagged as the freak with two mothers.  
  
That night, they had their first serious fight. It ended with Karlie storming out of the house and Taylor curling up in Claire’s bed, holding her daughter close.  
  
Things began to slip after that; tensions began to rise between them. Both just wanted to do what was right for their daughter, but neither could agree on what that was.  
  
And when Karlie came home drunk after their tenth argument, Taylor decided enough was enough. If Claire’s happiness and health came before her own, so be it.  
  
She and Karlie settled on a monthly system. Claire would stay with Taylor for four weeks, then with Karlie for the next. Neither woman saw each other for months, let alone spoke to each other. But truth be told, Karlie’s absence hurt far more that Taylor wanted to admit.  
  
It had been a long six months, but Taylor was now more hopeful than ever that things would work out between them.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor arrived on set on Monday expecting to be met with Karlie’s sunshiny smile. After half an hour, she wasn’t fazed. Karlie was always late. After an hour, she began to worry. After two hours, she began to panic.  
  
So when one of the studio’s secretaries rushed in, face flushed, and had a hushed conversation with the director, Taylor was ready to have a heart attack.  
  
“Taylor,” the director called her over. “You have a phone call.”  
  
Taylor was led to the front office of the studio, where another woman was waiting, phone at the ready. With shaking hands, Taylor held it up to her ear.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Taylor?”  
  
“Karlie?”  
  
“Taylor, thank god! I thought I wouldn’t reach you in time.” Karlie’s voice was strained, as if she was in pain.  
  
“In time for what? Karlie what’s going on?”  
  
“Taylor, I need to you stay calm for me okay? Can you do that?”  
  
“Well I can’t now that you’ve said that!” Taylor almost yelled. “What is it?”  
  
“I’m in hospital.”  
  
“WHAT?”  
  
“Car accident,” Karlie explained. “Some idiot ran through the red light and hit the side of my car.”  
  
“Well… what… how… are you okay?” Taylor stuttered.  
  
“I’m fine Taylor. But I’m just about to go into surgery. Anyway, you need to-” Karlie’s voice became rushed.  
  
“Surgery?! What for?”  
  
“My leg is broken and they need to fix it. Listen Taylor-”  
  
“I’m coming over there,” Taylor said.  
  
“No!” Karlie blurted out. “No, you can’t!”  
  
“I can be there in twenty minutes,” Taylor checked her watch.  
  
“No! Taylor! You need to go to Claire!”  
  
That stopped Taylor in her tracks. “Karlie, where is she?”  
  
“She’s back home.”  
  
“By herself!”  
  
“Her babysitter was late! We were out of eggs, so I just went out to the store and I got hit. She’s still by herself Taylor! I tried calling the house but she’s not picking up. You need to get her!”  
  
“What about you?” Taylor asked desperately, heart beginning to pound uncomfortably hard. “I don’t want you there alone either.”  
  
“You can meet me here once you’ve got Claire. She needs you Taylor. Hurry, they’re about to take me in to surgery.”  
  
“Okay,” Taylor felt her resolve come back at the thought of her daughter. “I’ll go get her. But then we’ll be there you understand? You won’t wake up alone, I promise.”  
  
“Thank you,” Karlie sounded almost scared. “I love you Taylor.”  
  
Taylor froze. She and Karlie hadn’t said those words for over six months.  
  
“Taylor?”  
  
“I love you too,” she whispered. “I love you Karlie. Hold on, okay?”  
  
“Okay, I-” Karlie was cut off by a click as the line went dead.  
  
Taylor stayed rooted to the spot. This was a nightmare. Just yesterday everything was on the mend. Karlie couldn’t leave her yet.  
  
No, Taylor shook herself. Karlie wasn’t leaving her. And until she could see her again, Taylor had a job to do.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Claire?” Taylor called as she entered their house. “Claire, it’s Mama. Where are you honey?”  
  
The panic sitting in her chest only grew when she was met with silence. Not bothering to take her shoes off, something Karlie would otherwise have berated her for, she ventured into the house.  
  
Moving from room to room, she checked Claire’s usual hiding spots. When she poked her head into her daughter’s room, she spotted a small foot sticking out from under the bed.  
  
“Claire?” she crouched down beside the bed, peeking underneath. Sure enough, Claire’s bright hazel eyes were staring back at her, fearful and teary.  
  
“Mama!” Claire wiggled out, immediately curling up into her mother’s arms.  
  
“Hi honey,” Taylor hugged her daughter close, relief flooding through her body. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Mommy didn’t come back!” Claire cried. “I got scared, so I hid.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Taylor rubbed her daughter’s back. “I’m here now.”  
  
“Ma?”  
  
“Yes honey?”  
  
“I’m hungry.” Taylor pulled back, staring at her daughter.  
  
“Oh my god, you haven’t had breakfast yet have you?” Claire shook her head.  
  
“Well we have to fix that don’t we?” Taylor lightly tapped her daughter’s nose, eliciting a giggle.  
  
It was only after Claire had eaten that Taylor told her what had happened. When she heard that her mother was in hospital, Claire went quiet.  
  
Small face set in a serious frown, Claire proceeded to run upstairs. Taylor didn’t follow, figuring her daughter just needed some space and time to process everything. But Claire surprised her when she returned with her small backpack. Taylor looked on from her seat at the kitchen counter as Claire began to cram as many cookies as she could fit into her bag.  
  
“Claire honey, what are you doing?”  
  
“Packing Mommy’s stuff,” Claire pointed to her pack. “You said we’re going to see her soon.”  
  
Taylor glanced inside and smiled. Inside were Karlie’s favourite pair of pyjamas, neatly folded and buried under a pile of cookies, her toothbrush thrown on top.  
  
“That’s very thoughtful of you Claire,” Taylor praised.  
  
“Thank you,” Claire’s little voice squeaked, closing her bag. “When do we leave?” she blinked at her mother expectantly.  
  
“How about we pack your stuff as well?” Taylor smiled.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor and Claire arrived at the hospital with two bags in tow. Taylor held onto a duffel bag with Claire’s books and a few toys. Claire’s own backpack bounced on her shoulders as she walked.  
  
Taylor sat with Claire on her lap, anxiously looking around the waiting room. By far, the worst part of this whole ordeal was that she wasn’t listed as Karlie’s family. How could she be? If they were to do something like that, their secret would be out. Which meant that Taylor wouldn’t be given an update until Karlie woke up.  
  
Minutes ticked by painfully slowly. Morning turned to afternoon. Claire fell asleep in her mother’s arms, exhausted. And still they waited.  
  
Until finally, a nurse appeared, glancing around the room, eyes landing on Taylor.  
  
“Miss Swift?” she asked, approaching.  
  
“Yes,” Taylor stood, cradling Claire as she slept.  
  
“Miss Kloss woke up about half an hour ago. She’s asking for you.”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
“Hey,” Karlie rasped as Taylor entered her room.  
  
“Hey,” Taylor whispered, voice cracking slightly. Karlie smiled at the sight of Taylor still holding a sleeping Claire, their daughter’s head pillowed on Taylor’s shoulder.  
  
“She’s okay right?” Karlie asked worriedly. “I was so scared at the thought of her all alone.”  
  
Taylor chuckled. “Trust you to come out of surgery and the first thing you ask about is your daughter.”  
  
Sitting on the vacant chair beside Karlie’s bed, Taylor let her eyes roam over the love of her life. Karlie’s left leg was encased in a bulky cast. She wore a brace on her wrist, a few steristrips covered a thin cut along her jaw, and her arm and shoulder were heavily bruised. But she was alive.  
  
“What did the doctor say?”  
  
“I broke my femur.” Karlie gestured to her leg. “Pretty badly apparently. The surgery was to put the bone back in place. Sprained my wrist, a lot of bruising, but that’s about it.”  
  
“So, you’re going to be okay?” Taylor needed to hear her say it.  
  
“I’m going to be fine Taylor,” Karlie smiled. With that, Taylor finally shrugged off the last of her fears. Karlie was going to be okay.  
  
“Mama?” Claire mumbled sleepily into Taylor’s shoulder.  
  
“Yes baby?”  
  
“Can we go see Mommy yet?” Taylor and Karlie exchanged looks, smiling.  
  
“Look who’s here Claire.” Taylor said. Turning her head, Claire peered tiredly out from Taylor’s neck.  
  
“Hi sweetheart,” Karlie reached out to her daughter.  
  
“Mom,” Claire murmured, still half asleep. Detaching herself from Taylor, she climbed into bed beside Karlie, curling into her uninjured side.  
  
“Are you hurt Mommy?” Claire asked.  
  
“A little bit baby,” Karlie tucked an arm around her daughter protectively. “But I’ll be alright. After all, I’ve got you and Mama here, don’t I? I’ll be just fine.”  
  
“Good.” And just like that, Claire was asleep again.  
  
Taylor sighed, looking at Karlie.  
  
“You scared me.”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry,” Karlie apologised.  
  
“Karlie, we have to stop doing this,” Taylor sighed. “I just… I’m tired, Karlie. I’m tired of being alone.”  
  
Karlie hesitated. Taylor held her breath. Then Karlie reached out and squeezed Taylor’s hands, and she knew everything would be okay.  
  
“Me too,” Karlie admitted softly. “I’ve missed you so much.”  
  
“I’m an idiot,” Taylor sighed. “I should never have left you.”  
  
Karlie hummed in agreement. “Well you’re right. And I’m still very mad at you.”  
  
Taylor dropped her head in shame. Then she felt Karlie’s fingers tilting her head up.  
  
“But I understand why you did it. You were under so much pressure from everyone. No normal human could have coped with everything you went through and not come out a bit shaken up.”  
  
“It’s still not a good enough excuse.”  
  
“Maybe,” Karlie said. “But I forgave you a long time ago.”  
  
Taylor smiled in wonder at the woman sitting beside her. “I don’t deserve you, do I?”  
  
“I could say the same thing,” Karlie grinned.  
  
“I think I’m ready Karlie.” Taylor whispered.  
  
Karlie’s eyes widened, sitting up straighter. “Really?”  
  
“Really,” Taylor nodded. “I’m ready to fight for this. For Claire. For you. I’m just sorry it took so long,” she smiled ruefully.  
  
“Hey,” Karlie leaned forward. “I meant what I said. I’d wait forever for you if I had to.”  
  
“Well,” Taylor smiled. “Thankfully for us, you don’t have to.”  
  
Then, after so many months believing she would never have to opportunity to do so again, Taylor kissed Karlie, something warm blooming in her chest as she did. Forget everyone else, this was something worth fighting for. _  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
As the car lurched over a speedbump, Taylor was jolted awake, blinking up at Abigail.  
  
“Well?” the redhead asked. “Was there anything different?”  
  
Taylor sat up, rubbing her head. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. To instantly know where Karlie was? To know immediately where to go, what to do? But nothing felt different. Even that pulling feeling in her chest had vanished without a trace.  
  
“Not really,” she admitted. “Claire was there again, except she was a but older this time. And the time periods seem to be getting closer. This one was definitely in the 1900s. But it still feels the same.”  
  
Abigail huffed in frustration, slumping back in her seat. “Damn.”  
  
Taylor sighed in defeat. “I think I might give up Abigail.”  
  
“What?! No, absolutely not!”  
  
“Well what else can I do?!” Taylor snapped. “It’s been eighteen years!”  
  
“Exactly!” Abigail said. “Come on Tay. You’ve been searching for eighteen years! What’s one more day?”  
  
Taylor sighed. “Alright, I’ll think about what to do tomorrow. But I’m giving up after that,” she conceded.  
  
Little did Taylor know, that night would be the last time Karlie appeared in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, I'm looking at the next chapter and honestly? I'm smiling like an idiot.


	13. You Are In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would lose my lesbian credentials if I didn't post this during pride month.

_Warm sunlight filtered through the window of the lofty apartment, draping over the two figures nestled in bed. The room was cluttered, canvases and half-empty tubes of paint covering every surface. A soft rustle was heard as a head poked up from among the sheets, glancing blearily around the room.  
  
Taylor let out a yawn, head falling back against the pillow. Feeling someone stir beside her, she rolled over, smiling at the sight of her sleeping girlfriend.  
  
Karlie’s arm was sprawled across her face, mouth hanging open as soft snores escaped her lips. Her other arm was outstretched, hands reaching for Taylor even in her sleep.  
  
Moving slowly, Taylor gently intertwined their fingers. She loved Karlie’s hands; what they could do, what they could create, the way they danced across her skin at night. Even now, as Taylor turned Karlie’s hands in her own, she marvelled at the flecks of colour that ran in constellations across the skin, paint still buried in the grooves and fissures of her nails and fingers.  
  
Karlie stirred again, causing her to look up. Glancing at the clock, her eyes widened as she looked at the time.  
  
“Karlie,” she gently shook her wife’s shoulder. “Karlie, wake up.”  
  
Karlie groaned, rolling over and burying herself deeper into the covers. Taylor smiled, wiggling closer and wrapping her arms around Karlie’s waist.  
  
“Karlie it’s morning,” she said, kissing her shoulder.  
  
“No,” Karlie mumbled. “Sleep.”  
  
Taylor laughed at her antics. Before she could try a different tactic, Karlie flipped herself over, pinning Taylor to the bed with her body.  
  
“Karlie!” Taylor protested from underneath her.  
  
“Nooooooo,” Karlie groaned, face pressed into Taylor’s neck. “Sleep.”  
  
“Karlie.” Taylor said sternly.  
  
“Sleeeeeeeep,” Karlie’s fingers began ticking Taylor’s sides, causing her to erupt into laughter.  
  
“Karlie! Stop!” she gasped. As Karlie’s fingers hit a particularly ticklish spot, Taylor let out an ungraceful snort. Karlie’s head snapped up at the sound, green eyes wide. Taylor slapped a hand over her mouth.  
  
Then both girls collapsed in a tangle of limbs and giggles, wide awake.  
  
“Karlie, we need to get up,” Taylor gently pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s shoulder.  
  
“No we don’t,” Karlie mumbled, head resting against Taylor’s chest, eyes drooping closed again.  
  
“Your exhibition starts in a few hours.”  
  
Karlie’s eyes snapped open, flicking to the clock. “Oh man, we really slept in, didn’t we?”  
  
“Sure did,” Taylor said happily.  
  
Karlie hummed, stretching her arms over her head. As the sheets slipped down her body, Taylor let her eyes roam appreciatively over her girlfriend’s form, still naked from the previous night’s activities.  
  
“Like what you see?” Karlie smirked.  
  
“Mmm hmm,” Taylor rolled on top of the taller girl, chests pressed together. “Last night was fun,” she smiled down at Karlie.  
  
“It was,” Karlie agreed, arm folded behind her head, her other hand raking up and down Taylor’s spine. Taylor dived in, peppering Karlie’s face with kisses. The other woman laughed, the warm sound echoing around the room before abruptly cutting off as Taylor reached her lips.  
  
“Taylor,” Karlie said between kisses. “I… have… morning breath.”  
  
“Don’t care,” Taylor mumbled, smiling against her lips.  
  
“Well I do,” Karlie playfully shoved her to the other side of the bed. “Come on, we need to get ready.”  
  
With a good bit of reluctance, both women climbed out of bed.  
  
“I’m going to go shower,” Taylor said with a flirtatious grin. “Care to join me?”  
  
“Princess, you know I’d love to,” Karlie said. “But if that happens then we are definitely going to be late.”  
  
Taylor sighed dramatically, turning on her heel to waltz into the bathroom.  
  
“Uh, hey Taylor?” she heard Karlie call. “Where’d my shirt go?”  
  
“Check on top of the closet,” Taylor called back. “I think I threw it there after round three.”  
  
“Oh yeah,” Karlie poked her head through the door. “That was fun.”  
  
“It was,” Taylor nodded. “Now leave me alone so I can shower.”  
  
Playfully sticking her tongue out, Karlie left the room. Taylor sighed happily as she stepped into the shower, hot water cascading over her shoulders.  
  
She and Karlie had been looking forward to this day for months now. After so many years of trying, Karlie was finally being featured in an exhibition for free-lance painters of New York, hosted by the city’s museums.  
  
It was opening day. And true to form, Karlie was running late.  
  
Stepping out of the shower, Taylor wrapped a towel around her waist, twisting her hair up in another to dry. Slipping a loose shirt over her arms, she leant against the sink, examining her reflection in the mirror.  
  
“Don’t move.” Taylor looked over her shoulder to see Karlie staring at her from the doorway.  
  
“Don’t move?” She echoed, eyebrow raised.  
  
“Taylor, do not move,” Karlie disappeared, returning with her faithful sketchbook and a stick of charcoal.  
  
“Karlie,” Taylor laughed. “Is now really the best time for this? We have to leave soon.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be fine,” Karlie waved her hand dismissively. “Just don’t move.”  
  
Taylor shook her head lovingly, but held her pose. After being with Karlie for so long, she was used to her sudden, sometimes inconvenient bursts of inspiration. And after so many years of being with Taylor, it seemed most of Karlie’s inspiration now came in the form of her girlfriend.  
  
It was not a rare occurrence for Karlie to tell Taylor to hold still while she quickly captured the way the light caught her features, how she looked in a particular pose, anything about her in which Karlie found beauty at the time. Which seemed to be quite often.  
  
Ten minutes and a rough sketch later, Karlie put down her charcoal with a satisfied nod.  
  
“Done?” Taylor asked.  
  
“Not yet,” Karlie stood from her seat on the bathroom floor. “I’m going to start painting.”  
  
“What?!” Taylor exclaimed. “Right now?”  
  
“Yep,” Karlie left the room, head tilted critically at her sketch.  
  
“Karlie, we have to leave soon!”  
  
“Relax,” the other woman called. “There’s plenty of time.”  
  
Taylor rolled her eyes. Karlie was notorious for showing up late to everything. It seemed even today, she was determined to protect that reputation.  
  
When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Karlie perched cross-legged on the arm of their couch, a canvas balanced precariously on her legs as she pained.  
  
Walking over, Taylor pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead.  
  
“You are just incapable of sitting anywhere properly, aren’t you?”  
  
“No,” Karlie said, with a grin. “I’m incapable of sitting straight.”  
  
Taylor groaned, lightly shoving her shoulder. “I’m going to go make us breakfast. Pancakes?”  
  
“Please.” Karlie said, not looking up from her painting.  
  
“That was awful by the way. Even for you,” Taylor said as she walked out of the bedroom.  
  
“You can’t make me sit straight Taylor!” Karlie called after her. “I’ll sit as gay as I want!”  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor came back with a plate stacked full of pancakes, Karlie had moved to the floor, lying on her stomach as she continued to paint.  
  
Taylor ungracefully flopped down beside her, flailing her legs as she almost overbalanced. Stabbing a piece of pancake with a fork, she held it out to Karlie.  
  
“Kar.”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“Breakfast.” Taylor shoved the fork into Karlie’s mouth. The artist didn’t even flinch.  
  
“Thanks,” she said around a mouthful of pancake, not looking up.  
  
By now, Taylor was used to the way Karlie would zone out like this, too engrossed in her work to focus on much else. So she kept poking forkfuls of pancake into her girlfriend’s mouth, eating some herself until it was finished.  
  
Karlie’s hands kept moving even as they ate breakfast, and Taylor watched, still mesmerised after all this time, that her girlfriend could make simple colours come to life the way she did.  
  
By the time she was finished, they were well and truly late to the exhibition. But Taylor couldn’t bring herself to care.  
  
Because before her was another of Karlie’s finished paintings. Another painting of Taylor. Hair up in a towel, leaning against the bathroom sink, but carrying herself with the effortless beauty that always came with Karlie’s work.  
  
Scooting behind Karlie, Taylor hugged her from behind, kissing her shoulder lightly as the pair gently swayed side to side.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” Taylor whispered.  
  
“Of course it is,” Karlie intertwined their fingers. “I paint what I see.”  
  
Taylor felt the tips of her ears heat up as she blushed. Moving around, she firmly took hold of Karlie’s hands, staring hard into her eyes.  
  
“I love you,” she said.  
  
“I love you too,” Karlie smiled.  
  
“No,” Taylor shook her head. “You need to listen to me. I love you. You are my home Karlie. You always have been, even before we met. Sometimes I think we must have had lifetimes together already. It seems impossible for me to have this much love for one person.”  
  
“Taylor…” Karlie breathed.  
  
“And that thought hurts me so much,” Taylor continued. “Because it means that one day I’ll have to say goodbye to you. And I have no guarantee that I’ll even remember you if I meet you again in another life. I just don’t know how I’ll be able to live like that. You’re a part of me. You’re too much a part of me for me to ever let you out of my heart.”  
  
“I need you to know,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. “That I’ll find you. Okay? No matter where we go, no matter how long it takes. I will find you. Every time. I don’t care if it takes a thousand years, I don’t care if it takes a thousand lifetimes. I will find you again.”  
  
Karlie surged forward and gripped her in a bone-crushing hug. Taylor held her just as fiercely, feeling Karlie’s tears drip onto her shoulder.  
  
The taller woman didn’t say anything, but Taylor knew she didn’t have to. Some things you simply cannot put into words, no matter how much you try.  
  
But try Karlie did.  
  
“I love you,” she whispered, the words tickling sweetly against Taylor’s neck. “I love you.”  
  
And there, on their bedroom floor, Taylor made a promise.  
  
“I’ll find you. I will find you.”_  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
When Taylor’s eyes snapped open that morning, she knew where to go.  
  
For the first time in her life, she knew exactly where to go.  
  
Even before she had fully woken up, that familiar stab of pain in her midsection was back. Only now she knew for sure that it was telling her something.  
  
As she took a deep breath, the pain lessened, as it always had, and drew tight, the invisible string once again pulling on her heart, guiding her forwards.  
  
But now the connection felt alive somehow, a warm energy buzzing through her chest whenever she focused on it.  
  
Before, she was able to feel some subtle shifts on the other end of that string. Now it felt so much more precise, a compass with a fixed destination.  
  
She knew exactly where to go.  
  
Flinging the bedcovers off, causing Meredith to let out an indignant meow from her spot against her legs, Taylor bolted out of bed. Hastily pulling on a pair of sweatpants and throwing a hoodie over her pyjama shirt, she sprinted out the bedroom door.  
  
Pulling her hair up into a messy bun as she paced the hotel room, she frantically searched for a pair of shoes.  
  
“Taylor?” Andrea called from the kitchenette. “You’re up early. Everything alright?”  
  
Taylor didn’t say anything, too preoccupied with finding shoes while making sure the tugging sensation in her gut didn’t vanish again. It couldn’t. Not this time.  
  
“Taylor?” Andrea entered the room, looking at her daughter with a frown. “Going somewhere?”  
  
Finally finding a pair of old sneakers, Taylor threw herself on the couch, yanking them on her feet.  
  
“I know where to go Mom.” Taylor rushed out.  
  
Her mother blinked in surprise. “Okay? Is that good?”  
  
“YES!” Taylor shouted. “I know where to go! I finally know where to go!”  
  
“Alright, but if you’re going out make sure you take one of the bodyguards with y-”  
  
“Don’t need to,” Taylor interrupted as she dashed to the hotel room door.  
  
“Taylor! You can’t go out alone!”  
  
“I won’t be alone.” Not waiting for a response, Taylor ran outside.  
\--------------------------------------------  
  
Taylor was ten when she first visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  
  
At the time, despite not even knowing her name, a lot of her time was spent chasing after Karlie. And while that field trip did give her another dream, something had always nagged her afterwards, like she had forgotten something very important.  
  
Now she knew why.  
  
While hunting around for anything that would bring back the girl from her dreams, Taylor had stumbled across a small, innocuous painting, one she initially thought was of Karlie.  
  
But she was wrong.  
  
It wasn’t Karlie in that painting.  
  
Stumbling out of the taxi cab, Taylor raced through the entrance of the Met Museum.  
  
She was almost blind to where she was going, weaving through the early morning crowds purely on instinct, all her attention focused on that internal compass that had finally found its pole.  
  
The invisible string was burning hot now, almost uncomfortably so. But she pressed on, retracing her steps from over ten years ago to the same gallery she and Abigail had explored when they were kids.  
  
Until suddenly, she stopped in front of a small display case, holding a single painting.  
  
Taylor stood there catching her breath, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at her sides, her world narrowed down to this one moment.  
  
This was it. After so many years of waiting and searching, this could be it. And Taylor was terrified.  
  
Heart hammering almost painfully against her ribs, she stepped forward.  
  
And her breath caught in her throat.  
  
Because right there in front of her was the painting from her dreams, the same one she had first seen when she was little. And it wasn’t of Karlie.  
  
It was of her.  
  
Before her was a depiction of a woman who looked exactly like her, leaning gracefully against the bathroom sink, gazing serenely at her reflection.  
  
She quickly checked the painting’s title, and her heart just about stopped.  
  
_My Taylor  
Oil on canvas  
Unknown artist_ , read the small square of paper.  
  
It was her. It was Taylor. Of course her ten-year-old self wouldn’t have recognised this. It looked exactly like Taylor did now, something she wouldn’t have been able to imagine when she was younger.  
  
She almost laughed out loud, the absurdity of everything hitting her all at once. After all this time, it had been here all along. All the proof she needed had been here this whole time.  
  
Which meant…  
  
Which meant it was real. It was real. Everything she had dreamed about had actually happened. It was all real.  
  
But if this was real, then where was-  
  
“I painted this.”  
  
Taylor slammed her eyes shut at the sound of a new voice beside her. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. It was too much to hope for.  
  
Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath. She turned around.  
  
And there she was.  
  
Taylor’s hands flew to cover her mouth, tears flooding her eyes.  
  
Standing inches away from her, eyes trained on the painting, mouth open in wonder, beautifully, wonderfully real…  
  
…was Karlie.  
  
“I painted this,” she said, turning to face Taylor. “I painted you.”  
  
As blue eyes finally met green, the rest of the world melted away.  
  
“Taylor?” Karlie took a tentative step forward.  
  
Taylor nodded, hands still covering her mouth, not trusting herself to speak.  
  
Karlie hesitantly reached up, taking Taylor’s hands in her own. And the way their palms and fingers fit so well together, like they were made just for each other, made her cry more.  
  
“Taylor?” Karlie asked again.  
  
“Karlie.” Taylor whispered, smiling.  
  
She reached a hand up to Karlie’s face, but hesitated, still not quite believing this was all happening. But Karlie moved forward, pressing her cheek against Taylor’s palm, covering her hand with her own.  
  
“It’s you,” Taylor breathed.  
  
Karlie nodded, tears of her own quickly forming as well.  
  
“It’s me.”  
  
With that the pair crashed into each other, arms wrapping around the other girl as they held on tightly. Taylor buried her face in Karlie’s shoulder, weeping quietly.  
  
At last, Taylor felt everything click into place, some unknown tangle of knots inside her loosening itself the longer she held Karlie. The empty ache in her heart she had been carrying around for years was finally leaving her.  
  
Replacing it was a wave of peace rushing through her soul, the warm buzz of her connection to Karlie now flooding to the very tips of her fingers. She could almost feel it radiating around herself. No anxiety, no shaking hands or nervousness of any kind. Just calm, as if her body was recognising Karlie’s own once again.  
  
Finally, finally, this was where she belonged. This was her future.  
  
Around them, some people were beginning to stare, but neither Karlie or Taylor took notice. All that mattered, all that existed in that one moment was the feel of the other girl in their arms, real at last.  
  
The pair remained locked together until Taylor couldn’t tell where her body ended and Karlie’s begun. The weight of a thousand lifetimes rested on their shoulders, but for the first time, Taylor felt strong enough to bear them.  
  
Their entire future was held in that single embrace. And Taylor, who had spent so long putting these feelings into words, found herself speechless. Save for one promise she had made, a lifetime ago. A promise she had finally kept.  
  
“I found you,” she murmured against Karlie’s shoulder.  
  
“I found you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go you guys! I hope this is everything you've been waiting for. 
> 
> To any of you who recognise the painting from where I hid it back in chapter 3, thank you so much for sticking around this long. 
> 
> Also, I'm probably going to do it anyway, but raise your hand if you wouldn't mind a sequel?


End file.
